


Inside Of Every Demon Is A Lost Cause

by Silver_Moonlight



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: A Lil bit outta character but eh, Death, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Masturbating, Please dont kill me, Reader-Insert, Romance, Shes been workin, Smut, So happy this series got off the ground!, The radio demon - Freeform, Updates on Monday’s or Fridays, Violence, Warning: Smut Ahead, angel is a dick with a dick, come join me in hell, duh - Freeform, feel free to use my OC, i guess, madness ensues, oh ho ho, read the tags TT_TT, sometimes on Wednesday's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 69,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Moonlight/pseuds/Silver_Moonlight
Summary: “And you’re just … giving it to me?”“Is generosity so foreign to you, that you would question it so openly?” His head tilts to the side once again, neck seeming to stretch to a far too inhuman angle whilst the demon awaits your response.“I didn’t take you for the generous type”- - - - - - - - - - - - -Falling face first into the annual cleanse isn't exactly 'fun', finding out you're dead? Even less so. But as you settle in to the afterlife something nags at the back of your mind ... The nuisance? The Radio Demon. Incessant on making your afterlife in Hell an absolute nightmare, you are sure he is just pushing until he sees you finally break.Love, death (duh), and the maddening presence of the most formidable demon in Hell ~ madness is sure to ensue!
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 365
Kudos: 973





	1. The Downward Spiral

**Author's Note:**

> OHHHKAEHHHH ~ So we started a new fic because DEAR GOD Hotel Hazbin was absolutely fantastic and I've had this floating around my nerd brain since it aired! 
> 
> Tag along as we explore Hell, and all the wonderful nightmare-ish-ness it is sure to bring to the table :3

_She knew the moment she brought the rim of the glass to her perfectly polished lips that she was indeed, in trouble._

As time wore on, deviant drug lords upped their highs and pushed the gear in monstrous ways. The sin industry was a riot, but she knew – in that moment as she laughed and played with the lapel of the portly gentleman – that this was no regular night at work.

The glint of the sharp edged glasses behind the man confirmed as much.

He was a regular ‘big spender’ and boy did she get saddled with the worst of ‘em.

According to the hushed whispers in the dressing room, he was a oil tycoon who was responsible for a mass environmental damage. He had a reputation for only spending his time and money with the best of the best.

She didn’t know whether to be flattered that she was considered the best of the best or think that this poor gullible fool did not know all his money went to the thick leather jacketed man shadowing all the women and ‘guests’

Ember was known for raking in the most profit, at least for the pimp who owned her mind and body. It was like she had signed away her soul just to pay her rent.

The malicious man before her hummed in appreciation as the girl before him swayed her ebony hips, the dark lights of the club shining on the golden chains and lace that adorned her curvaceous form. Ember slipped her hand down the thickly moustached man’s chest, rubbing his neck as he handed her a hundred dollar note that held the sole purpose of breaking his eye contact with the dancer just so his blazing irises could stare wantonly at her exposed cleavage.

Sliding the note into her black-lace bralette, his lip tugging between his cracked and wet lips as he fingered the strap that connected her ensemble to her throat collar.

He stood, pulling you in tow as his thundering footsteps echoed down the red velvet halls, doors upon doors closed with the dark and devious moans of patrons and workers alike.

When he was satisfied with the room, she took the drink from the silver tray in the room. The glass set against her plush lips, the drink going down a treat as she began to sway her hips before the tycoon before her.

His greedy porky fingers worked their way up her legs, lingering once again at the lace of her rear as she started to run her hands up his pinstripe suit.

Why were the men who frequented these establishments always slimy, greasy geezers?

She leaned in to his embrace as his prominent nose ran up her olive skinned neck.

Smiling, she did something she _never_ did.

She leaned in closer, fingers growing slack on the glass she held – the crystalline tumbler shattering on the wooden floorboards.

“What did _youu_ put in _‘tha drink_?” Her lips could not form the words as his fingers closed tightly around her throat.

“Sneaky little fox. Did you think I would not notice being stolen from, little klepto?!”

Her golden eyes attempted to open wide as his grip grew tighter still, lungs burning as her long fingers clawed at his bulking hands.

Gasping out, black spots danced across her vision as the drugs and the crushing force of his fingers squeezed her trachea.

Woozy, in a last ditch effort her hand trailed down to the floor – haphazardly grasping for glass shards as the rampant tycoon incessantly squeezed, as if wishing to destroy her very windpipe.

The prickles and cuts seemed so futile as the chunk of glass finally wedged between her thin fingers, with one final gasp the shard struck his neck, her eyes dropping as red hot blood sprayed over her crumpling form. His lips pulled into a grimace as his porky fingers raced to his neck in an effort to stop the violent red oozing that slowly bled through his suit – dark eyes blazing with unbridled anger as the fat bastard fell to the floor with a quiet gurgle.

Eyesight fading in and out, the black spots danced across her vision as the drugged alcohol coursed through her veins.

Ember closed her eyes with a quiet groan as the world around her became numb.

~ ~ ~ ~

A scream rippled through your body, tearing your lungs to shreds as the nightmare plummeted you towards the unknown terrain below. Somehow, in that weird way that dreams work, your body seemed to catch on the long dead black branches that protruded from the asphalt, breaking your fall – and most likely a few ribs – as your body hit the tar lined street.

Blinking in confusion, you raised your hand to your head, groaning as what should have been a numb dreamlike pain coursed through your legs and back.

Only it felt entirely, unbelievably real.

“Geez, shit”

You had read somewhere that you couldn’t rationally comprehend writing in dreams … but your eyes seemed to have no issues in recognising the cheap ‘girls, girls, girls’ and other flashing neon signs.

What you could only assume was supposed to be a moon shone bright above, the air was thick with humidity as you peered around your surroundings. Somehow, you felt as though you were being watched by _unseen eyes_.

And that’s when you heard it – the screams.

Some kind of dream this was, the worst thing you had ever has a night terror about was the Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters peeking into your apartment whilst it went on a murderous rampage throughout the city.

Ducking for shelter, you ground your teeth as something pulled you back – your eyes going wide in shock as you peered down at the thick tail that had snagged in the dry brush below the dead tree you had fallen into.

Hissing through your teeth and yanking at it in a haphazard attempt to free yourself, your movements ceased as a wolfs howl echoed in the distance. A strange hissing seemed to fill the air as shadows as black as night licked up the walls of the closest building, non-coherent voices enticing you to come down the darkest alleyway.

“NOPE. No fucking thanks!” You hissed under your breath, the sound fading in the wind as you finally managed to yank the ridiculous appendage attached to you free of the bushes. Wasting no time, your bared feet beat on the ground as you ran for cover somewhere, anywhere, in this downright depressing hell-scape.

You spied a small alcove that was barely lit but seemed to be the least menacing place to hide as your heart raced within your chest.

Time seemed to tick in your ear as the silence dragged onwards.

What should have given you a moment to catch your breath and try to wake yourself up turned out to be far from a respite from the strangeness that surrounded you.

The first shadow stalked across the empty lot, before being taken down by a feral looking cat that lunged at it – playing with the beast like a mouse in its paws. Like all good kitties, this one took it upon itself to tear the little plaything to pieces right before your eyes, thick red oozing onto the pavement as it started to become disinterested.

Another player entered the field, some strange looking statue with one bulbous eye that flew down and swooped the cat with heavy beating wings, its glowing eye narrowing as it drove its long spear through the beasts chest cavity and lifted it from the floor.

“ _What the **hell**?!_” Your voice barely a coarse whisper as the sounds of more screams and cries pierced the night sky.

“Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!” Putting your hands to where your ears should have been, you froze only to realise there were no ears there at all – just thick tufts of hair that sprouted from your head further towards the upper parts of your head similar to cat ears.

“Oh my ~ _what is happening?!_ ” Resisting the urge to scream, you sunk to the floor of the alcove and began to rock back and forth. If this was a dream – _why weren’t you **waking up**?!_


	2. Radio Hack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who want this to be a ‘reader insert’, I think that’s the way I’m going for this one at the moment … all the future chapters should have a (Y/N) where the name should be. There are just a few awkwardly things because she has ears and a tail so as long as that’s cool – cool, cool, cool! 
> 
> If you wish to use my OC you’re more than welcome to :3 Her name is Eira, she is 23 and works as a stripper in a "metropolitan city". There is a meaning behind her name ~ all which will be revealed in a little bit so stick around and stay tuned!

The sounds of carnage eventually died out, after how many hours you had no idea. You just sat there rocking back and forth until the screaming stopped. It was only when there were muffled voices and the sounds of heavy and horribly oiled carts that you dared to poke your head into the rising daylight…

… or as daylight as your dream was letting on.

For the sky was still a blood red with a glowing pentagram strewn across the sky.

Dreams often felt as though they were happening in the blink of an eye, so why did this everlasting nightmare feel so real and why was it going on for so damned long?

As the cityscape seemed to brighten up, you finally looked down at your attire – cringing as the strange tail swished behind your back. You must have drunk yourself into oblivion after work because dream you hadn’t even been bothered enough to change your ‘uniform’ much.

But it wasn’t the clothing that sent your lungs into a hyperventilating fit, it was the fact that your once olive toned skin was replaced with the strangest pale grey. Examining your fingers, you saw they were indeed the same colour adorned with long black nails that looked more like talons than anything you’d have in the waking world.

“Okay. Keep it together. Surely I’ll wake up any minute now…” you mutter to yourself.

The sounds of the corpses that sat strewn across the floor being collected and picked up raged on in your ears, the squelching sending a sickening tremor through your body.

“… _any minute now_ ”

When it became clear that you were in fact NOT waking up, you eased a lightly coloured foot out of the alcove, peering around the corner as you watched the mass murder before you dissipate as the workers cleared out and onto the next area.

Sneaking forwards and pressing your body as flat against the stoney wall in an effort to look inconspicuous, you managed to move a decent distance before you heard the toll of a clock, something that seemed to ring in your ears more than the air itself. Perhaps it was the cat ears, perhaps in this dream you had better hearing than you originally thought.

You wander aimlessly, heading towards what looks like a grungy cityscape and think perhaps a way to wake yourself up may exist there. Making your way out of the back streets and alleyways, you pressed onwards, huddling close to yourself as the bright faced demonic creatures of your nightmare drink and celebrate on the streets, for what you have no idea.

Tried, hungry and absolutely wrecked, you find yourself slowing as the moon begins to rise again, arms crossed by your chest you stop only when a cold chill runs up your spine. Eyes cast to the side, you realise you have stopped walking out the front of the most obscene shop you have ever seen.

The display is filled with televisions of all sizes and shapes, the window littered with countless scratches and scuffs… but between each of the screens sat offal ~ intestines, livers, stomachs and blood were strewn like the concrete that held the very foundation together.

The voice that sat muffled behind the glass spoke with a high pitched whine, her neck snapping back into place as she picked up the papers from the desk.

“In case you devilish dipshits out there missed it, our very own ‘princess of hell’,” her long red tipped nails created quick bunny ears as she quoted the next segment, “made an absolute laughing stock as her first ‘guest’, none other than porn actor Angel Dust, was found in the latest turf war over in the west district”

“It sounds like someone put all their eggs into the wrong basket, Katie” the cohost chuckles behind his gas-mask, wiping off what looked like soot from his shoulder.

“Too right Tom! Here’s a look back at the downright depressing coverage!”

The screen flashes with a musical number about helping the citizens of hell try to rehabilitate themselves, and dear god the whole fiasco was downright cheerful, the so called ‘princess of hell’ danced about the stage singing about some ‘happy hotel’ before the ensuing brawl filled the screens.

You knew, as soon as the night fully fell you were going to be in trouble. You needed a place to stay.

Perhaps this hotel was your best bet?

Your feet dragged along the dirty concrete walkways, the sounds of the night drawing closer as your stomach rumbled incessantly. You’d had some crazy ass dreams before, but this was something entirely different.

You pushed forwards, aimlessly wandering again but keeping your eyes open as best you could.

In that weird way that you do when you dream … something caught your eye urging you to lift your head and stare wide eyed at the bright flashing lights of the ‘happy hotel’.

Wasting no time, you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, twisting between the remaining buildings and tall underbrush you finally came face to face with the grandiose high-rise of a mansion. You had never seen anything so … peculiarly out of place, but also so sinister and harmonious. The high gates to the establishment swing on their hinges with an incredibly intricate eye staring down at you where you stood.

A _tingle_ seemed to fill the air, the _static_ falling on your bared arms and sending a chill up your spine. Your ears twitched, an odd sensation that had you concerned as light footsteps sounded in the distance.

Swallowing your fear and deciding to get the heck out of dodge, you press forward into the strangely barren grounds. Your shoes clicked on the wide cobblestone driveway, eyes darting about before you spied the stained glass doors that must have been the entrance. Pausing at the red and golden apples, you sighed.

This dream had gone on for long enough, you were ready to wake up. Perhaps if you walked inside you could at least get a few answers from your subconscious.

Rising a greyish fist, you knocked.

The door creaked open and you could not help but smile as the somewhat familiar face of what the news anchor had called, ‘the princess of hell’ and dear god did the title not fit her.

You were expecting a Wizard of Oz kind of princess dress and maybe even a tiara.

What you got was a white shirted, black business pants and overalls kinda gal with platinum blonde hair and two incredibly rosy cheeks.

Rubbing your arms in discomfort, You smiled up at her shocked expression.

“I think I need your help…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay I'm done for the day but the next update'll be on Friday the 13th because SPoooOOOOooPPPyyyyYYYY ~ 
> 
> Thanks for tuning in!


	3. Checking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hotel Hazbin story and characters do not belong to me, they belong to the beautiful mind of Vivienne Medrano  
> F for respects, yo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my holey guacamole! You guys have absolutely blown me away with how much love and support this fic has gotten so far ~   
> Y'all are absolute gems TTuTT
> 
> Because I am seriously far ahead and I know these are relatively short chapters (plus its almost Christmas time) I wanted to upload a day early and bring you NOT one, NOT two, BUTT three chapters ~
> 
> So far, chapter 8 is the last chapter that covers the pilot, then we fly into uncharted territory <3

“Oh my goodness! Yes, yes! Come on in to the Happy Hotel” she squealed, eyes bright and full of stars as she clapped excitedly. Following her lead, you stepped inside the warm hotel, a small smile in your eyes as you stared around dumbly. How could something so foreboding on the outside look so inviting …

_Actually scratch that_

Your eyes settled on the strangest couch, adorned with sharp teeth and three eyes staring into space … you suddenly felt your stomach drop.

Lazily thrown across the couch sat a grey skinned woman, her eye closed as she tried to calm her breathing. As you and the princess approached her eye flashed open, the bright orange of her sclera sending you back a step as she stood to attention.

“Who’s this?” She asked, her down turned lips settling into a flat line as her hands went to her hips. You could only describe her was that she stepped right out of the 80’s, with her dress tightly hugging her hips and loose around the shoulders, high boots and three quarter gloves that looked straight out of a Madonna music video.

“Oh my gosh,” the princess sighed, looking defeated as she turned to you, “I totally forgot to ask, what is your name?”

You glance to the floor, the words falling out quickly as your tail tentatively twitches behind you.

“It’s uh … ( _Y/N_ ). Nice to meet you”

“Its such a pleasure to meet you, ( _Y/N_ )! I’m Charlie, and this is Vaggie!” She smiled, grabbing the other woman by her shoulders and pulling her close. The grey skinned woman, Vaggie, forced a smile upon her lips as she stood beside Charlie.

“And who’s … that?” You ask, pointing a long black nail at the strange white ball of fluff that sat devouring what looked like an icicle. They looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place your finger on where you had seen them before.

Vaggie cast a scowl over to the being, a low growl sounding in her throat as if she were attempting to set the four armed being on fire.

Patting her shoulder, Charlie nodded to Vaggie to go sit back down on the couch.

“That’s Angel Dust … he’s a … uh … guest here”

“Oh I think saw him on the TV earlier …”

“HEY WATCH YOURSELF, TOOTS” he called, narrow eyes staring across at you before loosing interest and muttering something to himself.

“Is that so?” Charlie asked, her brows sinking as she probed as to why you had seen Angel on TV. All you said was that there was some news coverage about the hotel that you happened to see as you were passing through.

“You know… it feels like I’ve been here forever. Am I ever going to wake up?” You asked, fiddling with the skin around your nails as you spoke more to yourself than anyone else.

“Ooh dear … when did you get here? What do you remember?” Charlie asked, leaning in close as you peered into her dark eyes.

“I remember … falling. Hitting a tree hiding as these … it sounds so stupid” you sigh, turning from her and staring intently at the door from which you entered.

“Hey, nothing is too crazy here – trust me – I know crazy and this… this isn’t it”

“They looked like … an angel. But angels don’t kill people… do they?”

With a sigh, Charlie led you to a large crate and sat you down beside her.

“They’re exterminators, something I’m sure we can get into at a later time. What else do you remember – before the fall?”

Thinking hard, you stare at the plush carpet with a set frown. You had been falling, hit that damned tree so hard you were surprised you didn’t shock yourself awake.

“I was at work and someone led me to a back room. I had a drink and everything went woozy. He … he had – oh my god – he had his hands around my throat”

Sympathy radiated off of Charlie as she pulled you into a tight hug, a small tear welling in your eye as the realisation hit you like a fright train.

“I … I died didn’t I? He killed me”

“Hate to be the one to tell ya this toots – but ya in Hell!” Angel cackled, “OW!” Stopping only when Vaggie threw a pillow at his head.

Fear and shock filled every fiber of your being, your arms and legs shaking as you looked up at Charlie’s dark eyes silently begging her to tell you this was all just some nightmare.

“Angel! You could have at least said it nicely” Charlie chastised him, turning back to you with a sad smile.

Taking a breath, stared at the ceiling blinking the tears from your eyes and looking over at the _welcome_ banner that sat haphazardly across the check in counter.

“I don’t have anywhere to go”

“You can stay here … as a guest! Our goal at the Happy Hotel is to rehabilitate sinners in the hopes that redeem themselves enough to earn their place in Heaven” her shoes hit the floor and she made a point of ignoring Angel as he rolled his eyes and bit the Popsicle stick in half with a horribly-disguised scoff.

“Surely you cant mean that. I can’t take advantage of your hospitality like that”

“Nonsense. I insist” her eyes lit up with the promise of helping a wayward soul that you felt bad for the generosity she offering.

“I guess” you sigh, “I guess I’m checking in”


	4. An Ominous Knocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hotel Hazbin story and characters do not belong to me, they belong to the wonderful mind of Vivienne Medrano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the second chapter for today - 
> 
> Have fun screaming sinners, cause I know I did when I wrote this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

Everyone seemed to settle a bit, with Charlie handing you a solid brass key, the bow of the key looking like a moth with its wings spread out. Examining the small object, you moved to sit beside Vaggie in a lackluster attempt at conversation.

Whatever Angel had said before you arrived had clearly set her off as she lay back attempting to massage the headache that seemed to plague her…

Although that most likely meant removing Angel.

Charlie explained about how she was born in hell and why she had made it her mission to try and rehabilitate sinners. For all intents and purposes, she really sounded like she had a decent plan with endless ideas for how to make someone good, but it seemed Angel had done something earlier that really damaged any chance of demons finding redemption.

You on the other hand… you found yourself fiddling with the _white-as-snow_ tail that Hell had decided to grant you. Your long nails sifted through the soft fur and as strange as it was to see, you really liked the idea of having a tail.

A *psst* sound caught your attention, forcing your eyes away from the strange appendage that sat before you.

“I ain’t never met a Fox Demon before… So whattaya’ in for?” Angel smirked, arms crossed as he looked down at you from his towering height.

You had never noticed how tall he was until this moment, you were absolutely dwarfed by his stature even sitting down and dear lord it made you feel uncomfortable and meek. Your tail swished around you and twitched as he leaned in closer.

“I couldn’t tell you, honestly. I used to work as a …” escort seemed too liberal for your actual role and prostitute was something that Angel would get a kick out of knowing – especially with your very limited understanding of how being a porn star in hell worked.

“A dancer. In a club. My ummm… manager would always ask me to lift things from customers. I guess I stole from the wrong person. Didn’t help him much though, I stabbed the bastard in the neck”

“A kleptomaniac and a stone cold killer? Neat-o” uncrossing and recrossing his legs, reclining back into the couch as he stared at the ceiling complaining about being incredibly bored.

“What about you?”

“Not somethin’ I wanna get into right now, babes. I don’t _do_ the whole _small talk_ thing. These two broads are makin’ me their ‘pet project’, and I get a room rent free. Now ain’t that sweet deal?” He laughs, your eyes flickering to the floor as the demon practically collapsed on itself – arms stretched out wide as he wiped a tear from his eye.

Your ears flickered as an incessant knocking pounded on the door – Charlie staring wide eyed down the hallway was enough to tip you off that something seemed wrong. The slamming of the door pulled you to your feet as you shot a curious glance down the long hallway.

“HEY VAGGIE…?” Charlie smiled, your eyes noticing the sweat that began to seep out of her porcelain skin whilst her eyes flickered to the door and back in a quick succession.

“Ugh, what?”

“The Radio Demon is at the door”

“WHAT?!” She practically exploded, teeth ground sharp as she leaned forward and balled her hands into a fist.

“Uhh, who?” Both yourself and Angel echoed each-other, eyes meeting with a curious glance before turning back to Charlie who was indeed – freaking out.

“What should I do?!” Charlies hands ran down her cheeks, pulling her eyes wide as she stared in contemplation at the door.

“Uh, well DON’T let him in!”

That hardly stopped her, the princess of hell turning on her heels and marching back to the door. Your ears piqued as you listened intently at the door creaking open.

“ _May I speak now?_ ” The voice sounded distorted – hidden behind static that made your hearing all funny but as you stared at Vaggie for answers she only stood to stomp over towards the open hallway with a deep furrow in her brow.

Some words were exchanged between the newcomer and the princess, their voices becoming clearer as a tall figure practically glided into the lobby area, your ears only picking up on one word.

 _Alastor._

“Excuse my sudden visit but I saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn’t resist – what a performance!” The boisterous attitude of the tall figure caught you off guard, the air seeming to fill with some form of pre-recorded crowd laugh that sent a chill down your spine and made the fur of your tail puff up.

Your eyes began to examine every inch of the demon, noticing the brightly coloured eyes first. They were red, as red as blood it seemed, with blazing irises and dark pupils that seemed to dance around the room as he examined every millimeter of the lobby behind the small red monocle that sat upon his right cheek.

He was impeccably dressed, better than most of the business tycoons that you had seen during your lifetime. Apparently the love for red carried over into his attire as well, with a form fitting pinstripe suit jacket falling just above his knees.

And that smile.

Oh god _that smile_.


	5. The Best Kind Of Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hotel Hazbin story and characters do not belong to me, they belong to the spectacular mind of Vivienne Medrano <3

It was off-putting to say the least, the constant yellow toothed grin that adorned his face sending a wave of gooseflesh across your skin as the static he seemed to emit around him settled into your skin.

Vaggie must have sensed it too as she rose to her feet and pulled a sharp spear out of what seemed like thin air and marched for the notable-newcomer.

“Why I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929, Aha hahaha … so many orphans” they laughed, the sounds of a crowd joining in at what he must have presumed was a joke. The whole vibe of this guy seriously put you off.

“Stop. Right. There! _Cabrón hijo de perra_!” Vaggie hissed, the spear trained on the incredibly tall demons throat ready for an instant. “I know your _game_! And I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone! You pompous, cheesy talk show shitlord!" you didn’t know what it was about Vaggie, but you suddenly took a real shine to her.

Her fearlessness was something you admired, especially in the presence of someone who looked as threatening as this fellow.

“Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here _I would have done so already…_ ” static filled the air, loud and thick enough you felt as though you were suffocating on the very air held within Hell itself. Eyes flickering to Angel as he poked his head behind Vaggie and Charlie, you stood frozen as the Radio Demon’s irises grew a glowing red, pupils forming what looked like radio dials before he shook his head as if to cast aside the daze he was in.

“Now! I’m here because I want to help!”

Charlie frowns, her voice flat and unbelieving as she asks, “Say what now?”

“HELP! Ha ha ha, hello? Is this thing on?! Testing, Testing” with a tap of his finger the microphone in his hand flares to life, the same old’timely voice coming from somewhere within,

“Well I heard you loud and clear!”

Vaggie and Charlie share a glance between the two of them before staring back at the demon.

“Umm, you want to help with…?”

The radio demon disappears in a dark cloud of smoke before appearing behind the two women, and puts his hand on each of their backs.

“This ridiculous thing you’re trying to do! This hotel! _I want to help you run_ _it_ ” he smiled.

“But, why?”

“Aha ha ha ha, why does anyone do anything? Sheer. Absolute. Boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades – my work became mundane” his pointed elbow rests on Vaggie’s head and you could swear you saw her blood begin to boil “lacking focus – AIMLESS!” With a quick flick of his wrist Vaggie is pushed to the side with a harrowing crash and you race to help her back onto her feet,

“I’ve come to _crave_ a new form of entertainment, ahaha!”

Charlie nervously twiddles her fingers as Vaggie comes to stand beside her with a sour expression.

“Does getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment?”

“Ah ha ha, It’s the purest kind my dear. REALITY! TRUE PASSION!” He spun, like the true showman that he was, before turning back to Charlie and Vaggie.

You counted whatever blessings you had left that he had barely noticed your presence.

Something was incredibly off with this fellow.

“After all … the world is a stage and the stage is a world of _entertainment_ ” that buttery smooth voice of his cracked through the air as his wild eyes danced around the room.

The princess rubbed her arm whilst the other hung low to the floor, an unsure look across her features as she asked,

“So… does this mean you think its possible to rehabilitate a demon?”

Laughter filled the room as the Radio Demon held his hands to his chest and smiled wide,

“Of course not, that’s whacky nonsense! Redemption? Oh the non-existent humanity! No, no, no, no. I don’t think there is anything left that could save such loathsome sinners. The chance given was the life they lived before – the punishment is THIS! There is no undoing what is done”

Charlie seemed stumped, so did you to be honest.

“So then why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?”

He seemed to pause and think for a moment, crimson eyes flashing over to where you stood before loudly exclaiming;

“Consider it an investment into ongoing entertainment for myself!” A sax played through the static as he twirled the princess below his fingers.

“I want to watch the scum of the earth struggle to climb up the hill of betterment – only to repeatedly _trip and tumble_ into the _fiery pit of failure_ ”

We each stood, frozen in time before Charlie lifted his hand off her shoulder and stepped away from the demon.

“Riiiiight…”

“Yes indeedy! And who better to help you than I?” He smiled, leading Charlie off towards the concierge desk.

Moving to sit back down on the creepy monster couch, Vaggie’s eyes never leaving Charlie as the dapper demons voice faded.

Angel seemed to move first, breaking the tension that hung in the air like a thick rope.

“Soooo uhhh… what’s the deal with smiles over there?”

“Wait? You’ve never heard of him before?! You’ve been here longer than me” her bright eye quickly flickered to where you sat, frowning as Angel simply shrugged his shoulders.

“The Radio Demon…? One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?”

“Eh – not big on politics” he casually sat back, already disinterested in whatever tall tale she was about to tell.

“Ugh” she rolled her eyes before leaning in closer to you and Angel. Curious about the tall demon, you shuffled in as close as possible, listening intently to every word;

“Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple overlords that have been dominant for centuries, that kind of raw power had _never_ been harnessed by a mortal soul before, then he'd broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him "The Radio Demon" _\- as lazy as that is -_ many have speculated what _unimaginable_ force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils, but one thing's for sure: _he's an unpredictable source of danger_ , a wicked spirit of mystery and a _violent monster of chaos_ the likes of which we can't risk getting involved with unless we want to end up _erased_!”

Your mouth ran dry, eyes peering over to the two demons who stood conversing quietly about fixing the hotel and how it was in no state to house guests … which you assumed meant you.

“Ya done?” Angel laughed, eyes darting over to the flamboyant demon once more, “he looks like a strawberry pimp!”

Hiding the small laugh you made, the Radio Demons eyes flashed to you, forcing you to sink further into the couch as dread and fear laced their way through your insides.

“Well I don’t trust him”

“I second that” you add meekly.

Angel seems un-phased, simply nitpicking at the tip of his hot-pink coloured glove.

“To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men?,” he wheezed, “Men?”

She huffed, standing and grabbing and Charlie’s arms as she pleaded with her.

“Charlie listen to me, you can’t trust this … creep. He isn’t just a happy face. He’s a deal maker of pure evil”

You watched as the Radio Demon hummed to himself, satisfied that he held the upper hand as his eyes flashed back to Vaggie. You lost track of the conversation, eyes trained on the side of the intruders head as he stepped up to the large ornate from with what looked like a younger Charlie flanked by two taller individuals. His grin stayed ever in place as his claws stretched out as if to hold the two women talking in the corner, your ears picking up Vaggie’s pleas as she begged,

“Charlie, whatever you do … do not make a deal with him”

With that the platinum haired demon moved back to stand before the dapper demon once again, your tail twitching as you watched the encounter from afar. Angel seemed ever pessimistic as he rolled his eyes and played with his hair.

“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove that they can be better, so I’m taking your offer to help … on the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached”

“So _it’s a deal then_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a longer one and I am love, love, loving going frame by frame to see all the little hidden bits and bobs that the creators of Hazbin are hiding in each scene! 
> 
> Y'all know the poster of Alastor in the alleyway with the circus tent that seems to be made out of him? Look at the wallpaper around the fireplace and see if you can spot the circus tent with an apple in it. What are your thoughts on that little tidbit? Do you think it'll have anything to do with why he was looking at the Magne family portrait? 
> 
> I have so many theories on where this show could head and I wish I could write them all down but it'd take soooo long ~


	6. Time To Cash In Some Favours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so ready to get to the good bits ~ I haven't been able to stop writing and I'm legit up to chapter 12 right now - someone send help! 
> 
> Also, the schedule for this fic will look something like this until 2020 comes around and my final year of uni absolutely wrecks my life:   
> Monday's : double upload  
> Friday's : double upload

With a charming smile, he twirled his cane and bent down to her level, green light filling the room and sending everyone jumping to their feet – including you.

Eyes wide, you stood slack jawed as the Radio Demon held out his hand, an ominous wind picking up forcing everyone to shield their eyes as loose papers and debris began to whirl around the room.

“No! Nope! No shaking, no deals. I… hmmm…. As princess of Hell and heir to the throne … I … Uh… hereby order that you help with this hotel … for as long as you desire. Sound fair?”

A lone wolf howl filled the air as each of you looked back and forth from each other. Vaggie looked … defeated and Angel appeared to be completely indifferent.

“Hmmm, fair enough!” With a wave of his hand, his cane dissipated, his hands tucked behind his back he strolled forwards as Charlie and yourself let out a long sigh of relief.

“Cool beans” she flashed a nervous smile towards you as you have her a reassuring thumbs up just before that damned demon strolled past you, his eye cracking open with a curious glint before turning to Vaggie and grasping at her chin.

“SMILE, MY DEAR! YOU KNOW YOU’RE NEVER FULLY DRESSED WITHOUT ONE!” You watched as he hummed a merry tune and moved back towards Charlie gesturing around as he asked;

“So where is your hotel staff?”

“Uhmmm, well…” Charlie shot the demon a nervous smile as his eyes flashed up at Vaggie, her hands on her hips and a very displeased glint in her eye.

“Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that” he laughs, whisking away towards the concierge desk where Angel lazily swung around in his chair.

Charlie slinked her way back towards Vaggie with an apologetic smile, excuses ready on her lips as the demon approached Angel.

“And what do you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick”

You stood quiet as the radio demon stretched his mouth wide like a gator, his jaws filled to the brim with countless sharp teeth as he laughed,

“HA! _No_.”

“Well, your loss” Angel sighed, leaning over his knee and watching as the Radio Demon moved about the room.

You were so lost in the hullabaloo of the day that you didn’t notice the clicking footsteps until those shiny shoes stood right in your line of sight.

Eyes trailing upwards, you felt your heart stop as the piercing eyes of the Radio Demon stared right down at your small figure. You had deduced that you were only a few inches taller than Vaggie but dear lord, he trumped you in a battle of heights.

He had seemed less imposing when he was on the _other side of the room,_ far, far, _far_ away from _you_.

“And what about you, _my dear?_ ”

“Oh, I uh, I don’t do anything, I just … um… I just …” something about his presence turned your tongue and wit to jelly, unable to really speak as he stared at you with an intensity you had hardly ever felt intimidated by in your living life.

But something about the stature, the way he held himself and constantly smiled put you off and filled every fibre of your being with unease.

“Now, now. This simply wont do!” His head swivels around to face Charlie once again, crimson eyes flickering towards you as his cane materialises again “I suppose I can cash in a few favours to liven things up”

His long talon like fingers click, your eyes dart around the room ready and waiting for something as preposterous as an elephant to drop into the lobby. You are almost surprised when sparks ignite in the fireplace, the whole wall seeming to catch on fire.

Gasping, you take a step back behind Vaggie, peering over her shoulder as a black mass falls into the pit from above. You watch with wide eyes as the Radio Demon leans down to pick up the small figure, barely even registering that its sentient as …

_The._

**_Biggest._ **

_Eyeball_

… you have ever seen flies open and stares directly at you.

The bright orange orb stares intently, so much so that you feel a tickle in your throat and realise that you’ve begun to growl. Your hands shoot to your lips, in a lacklustre effort to stop the sound from escaping somewhere deep inside you.

With an adorable *squee* the smoke and soot disappears, the bulbous eye blinking as the Radio Demon looks incredibly chuffed with himself.

“This little darlin’ is Niffty!” The small demon falls to the floor, unfazed by the sudden rush of gravity as she fell to the wooden floorboards with a soft thud.

“Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you – Its been _awhile_ since I’ve made new friends, _why are you all women?_ ” her iris flickers around at a breakneck pace as her gaze races between, Charlie, Angel, Vaggie and you before exploding and rushing to Charlie and picking her up as if she weighed nothing.

Vaggie reached for her spear, pulling it on the small demon as a low growl sounded in her throat.

“ARE THERE ANY MEN HERE?! _I’m sorry that’s rude…_ ” she places Charlie down, looking ashamed of her sudden out burst.

“OH MAN this place is filthy – it really needs a ladies touch … which is weird because you’re all ladies - _no offence_ ” Her eye goes wide as she begins to flitter around the room in a mass of rapid movements. You stare on in disbelief as she gazes around the room before moving like a bullet from a gun, tearing down cobwebs and dusting as fast as her hands would allow.

“Oh my gosh this is AWFUL! No, no, nope, ahaha nope, nooope”

The static electricity feeling fills your veins again as a new voice draws your eye, two large sets of wings seeming to materialise out of a red and scratchy mist as the Radio Demon grins on with a deranged tilt of his head.

“HA! Read em and weep boys, full- _ooooh_ ” the felines eyes narrow as he stares around helplessly, leaning onto the cards table as his feet phase onto the wooden flooring. “The Hell? What the _fuck_ is this?!”

You stare on as the demon turns and points his long claws at the Radio Demon, a frown set on his features as the man in red cheerfully approaches him.

“ _YOU_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also apologise, I'm Australian and I know that a lot of words are spelled differently - bare with me I'm trying to make sure these words exist in a universal sense. A lot of colloquialisms have to get cut because I just don't know if people will get em. 
> 
> If you're currently residing in an eastern timezone, the upload schedule might look a little different for you guys, I guess it means you get it a day early? That's never a bad thing ~


	7. A Wink And Some Cheap Booze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a double upload is my early Christmas present for this week ~

“Ah, Husker, my _good friend_ , glad you could make it!”

“Don’t you ‘Husker’ me, you son-of-a-bitch” his moderately pissed off stare centres on the Radio Demon before turning back with a twisted expression as he gestures to the now fading stacks of cash on the craps table. “I was about to WIN THE WHOLE DAMN POT!”

The red demon shoots a wicked smile as he leans forward with a sinister gleam in his eye.

“Good to see you too!”

“Ugh, what the hell do you want with me _this time?_ ” Speaking through a facepalm, the cat demon stares up with a sour expression as an arm is slung around his shoulders.

“MY FRIEND – I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services… I hope that’s okay?”

As Husker growls, you step back. Something about his whole demeanour throwing you off and sending a sickening feeling trembling down into your stomach. Disgruntled, he finally breaks.

“ARE YOU SHITTIN’ ME?”

“Hmm…” the Radio Demon thinks momentarily before smiling wide, “No! I don’t think so!” The laughter that fills the air reminds you of a studio audience and it hit you.

This _bastard_ had _pre-recorded_ laughs for _all_ of his punchlines.

What a jackass.

“You thought it’d be some big fuckin’ riot just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of fuckin’ clown?” Husker puffs up, anger seeping from every pore in his body. Your eyes flicker to the Radio Demon, who stands with a barely contained childish grin before answering,

“Maybe” with the on-cue laughs that honestly, the more you hear them echoing around your ears, make you want to punch this guy.

“Well I ain’t doin’ no fuckin’ _charity job_ ” Husker grumbles, arms crossed by his chest as his eyes follow the Radio Demons’ steps. Walking past Husker, you stare on as the Radio Demon suddenly vanishes from your line of sight, stopping only to materialise out of smoke behind him and watch on as his long-clawed hands grip at his shoulder.

“Well _I_ figured you’d be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!” With his cane pointed out, you stare as what was once the shitty looking corner now radiated within an eerie green glow – an assortment of skulls sat atop the bar, their intimidating glares sending a chill up your spine for the umpteenth time today. As your eyes trailed up you noted the glowing green of the wooden wall panels that seemed to be held there with the Radio Demons trickery.

Perhaps the bar did not truly exist at all?

“With your charming smile -” turning back to the duo by the now long faded craps table, you watched on as the Radio Demon forced a smile onto the poor cat with his long fingers, the gleam in his teeth disappearing as the frown quickly took its place once again. “-and welcoming energy ~ this job was MADE FOR YOU!”

With a hand to his chest, the Radio Demon walked towards the new bar, a gleam in his eye as he glanced back at Husker with a cheerful smile.

Sensing Husker’s reluctance, his hand goes to where his heart _should_ have been before turning and glancing over to Charlie.

“Don’t worry my friend, I can make this more welcoming … _if you wish…_ ” the green bottle labeled with a simple ‘cheap booze’ on the label grabs at Huskers attention. His whole body goes slack with wide eyes as he stares at the bottle that appeared out of nowhere.

Where did this guy keep all this stuff?!

“What?! You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?” His claw meeting the centre of the Radio Demons chest, eyes flickering back to the open bottle, the frown on his features relaxing into a less intense scowl as he brings the bottle closer to his lips.

“Well you can!” He chugged the bottle and took his place behind the bar, and after all the shit you had seen in the past 48 hours … you were ready to join the grumpy cat. At least until Vaggie steps in and vents her frustrations.

“ ** _Hey_** , hey, hey, hey. NO! No bar! No Alcohol! This is supposed to be place that discourages sin, not some kind of … mouth … brothel … **_MAN CAVE_**!~”

A blur of white streaks across your vision, tackling Vaggie to the floor with a flurry of turkey noises.

What the fuck?

“ **SHUT UP!** _SHUT. UP! We are keeping this_ ” Angel whispers, his face so close to Vaggie you’re sure she is going to bite his head off once her ears stop steaming. You don’t know if he is talking about the bar, booze or Husker.

Standing and slinking to the bar with a playful smile, Angel leans on his elbow and raised his brows at the newest member of staff at the Hotel.

“Heeeeeyyyyyyy”

“Go fuck yourself” the gruff voice of Husker held nothing back as he looked disinterested back to the bottle in his hands.

“Only if _you watch me_ ”

Oh man, he was _definitely talking_ about _Husker._

With Angel grabbing for his chin, Husker pulls away as a flying mass of platinum hits the bar at full speed, his eyes narrowing as he practically jumps out of his skin. The sound of bottles and glasses rattling is enough to make you jump ten feet high and puff your tail up. Seriously, you needed to get a handle on this whole tail situation.

You didn’t know how to feel about this whole fiasco. Sympathy filled you as you knew how it felt to be pulled out of your life and dropped into someone else’s mess. It was why you were in Hell after all.

“OH MY GOSH! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You are going to LOVE it here!” Charlie beams, happiness radiating off of her as she holds her hand out for Husker to shake, his eyes flicker down to her outstretched hand and he sighs, grabbing for the bottle instead.

“I lost the ability to love years ago…”

Your stomach dropped as static fell onto your skin, so softly and quietly that you hadn’t even noticed. It was like a shadow, always lurking and creeping but only ever catching your eye at the last possible moment before pouncing.

“So whattaya’ think?” His voice sent you reeling, eyes flashing upwards as the figure moved past you, bile rising in your throat as you stared after him.

_How long had he been there?_

_What was he doing there?_

And more importantly …

_Why couldn’t you hear him?!_

“This is AMAZING!” Charlie is over the moon, grabbing for her cheeks as she smiled wide.

“Its … okeh” Vaggie grumbles.

With a wide grin, the Radio Demon pulls them into a tight hug.

“Hahaha” he laughs, eyeing Vaggie’s discomfort as he lets her go, talons still very much so around Charlie.

“This is going to be VERY _entertaining_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this about does it for me, I'll update the tags to say something along the lines of when I'll be updating. I'm so super stoaked and excited to get this show on the road! 
> 
> ~ There is also a good chance that I'll pop in a sneaky mid-week upload this week too ... so keep an eye out on Wednesday. ;)   
> I wont be able to do one every week - cause that means I'm writing 5 chapters a week and that's some other kinda crazy mess ~


	8. But Hey Kid, What The Hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I sneaky? yes.   
> Is this another double upload? yes. 
> 
> Will y'all thank me for this on Friday when we go off script? Most definitively ;)

Static picks up once again, laughing in the deepest recesses of his chest as Vaggie pushes herself away. His gloved hand adjusts his monocle before fire dances in his hand, strange symbols floating through the fire. Before your eyes even have a chance to register what is going on – HE THROWS THE FIRE UP TO THE CEILING…

Choking back a gasp and running to catch Vaggie, the bastard pulled a hat from thin air and set it atop his head, the threads of his clothing changing to a more show tune-y kind of style.

As you hold onto Vaggie, she stomps away towards Angel, arms crossed with a hotter-than-Hell gleam in her eye as Charlie stares up in wonder at the Radio Demon. As if his strange trickery wasn’t enough, phantom tuba’s and trumpets filled the lobby.

“You have a dream - you wish to tell…” with a twirl of his finger, Charlies’ slacks and overalls swift into a 20’s style long sleeve and skirt, her hair shortening and curling under a red boater hat.

“And its just laughable – but hey kid, what the Hell?” Shrugging at Vaggie, her eye seems to glow a bright red as her blood boils. You watch in fascination as the Radio Demon throws Charlie into the air, holding your breath as she seems to enjoy the musical spectacle.

“Cause you’re one of a kind – a _charming_ demon belle” her footsteps fall into perfect sync with the demon, a cheerful grin tugging at her lips as they Charleston on the staircase before sliding down the bannister with breathless delight.

With a click of his fingers, you feel your tattered rags change, quickly replaced with something you had only seen in that Great Gatsby movie a few years back. Your skin-tight clothing pulled into a sleek dress, arms bared and gold detailing all down the front, you couldn’t help but feel a bit taken aback as dainty golden strappy shoes encased your bared feet. Your hair twisted itself into an elegant side bun with sweeping bangs and my god you watched sheer shining gloved materialise from your fingertips down to your wrists as the tune carried on in the back of your mind.

Staring in disbelief at your constituents; Husker seemed unfazed, caring only for the bottle in his hand staring around with a lazy frown across his features. Angel was now in a glowing pink suit, holding back Vaggie, as she fumed and ground her teeth watching the spectacle before her. Niffty stood dressed in tassels and feathers, her eye wide and expression worried. Vaggie paused, staring down at the conservative turn of the decade dress, her bow shrinking down to size and finding it tied up neatly on her chest.

Niffty smiled as she stared at your glittering dress, bouncing up and down as the musical number continued.

“Now let’s give these _burning fools_ a place to dwell – _take it boys_ ”

With a snap of his finger, shadows rise from the floorboards playing various instruments, you’re sure you see one in the back holding a triangle with a less than satisfied grimace across its jaws. Charlie stands and clicks to the beat, Vaggie cutting through the crowd to try and talk some sense into her.

“Oh!”

Something grabs at your wrist, spinning up until you can’t see straight with hot and heavy bodies crushed into your ribs and someone steps on your toe.

You stare up as menacing shadows take the Radio Demons place, their hungry eyes peering down at you with jaws widening with sickening grins as they draw near.

Before you know it you’re at the bar with Husker and Angel, a martini in your hand with a spiked olive poking out from the side of the glass.

“Ha, ha! Inside of every demon – is a lost cause”

The Radio Demon grabs a hold of your shoulders, fear paralysing you as your eyes trail his movements – grabbing for Husker and Angel before receiving a less than pleasant reaction in the form of a bird from the barkeep. Vaggie stands to the side with her arms crossed by her chest, looking incredibly unhappy with the whole song and dance… literally.

“But we’ll dress em’ up for now with just a smile!”

With a wave of his cane, an elegant peacock hat appears on her head, a fox scarf draped around her neck. With a wink, he slaps her ass and dances away, leaving her fuming as she tosses the unfortunate accessories to the floor.

Your heart sinks, watching as the poor fox is thrown to the floor and a growl sounds in your throat, staring down at the demon who makes his way down a literal red carpet, glowing eyes shining bright as he taps his toes towards the fireplace, kicking a small demon skull out of his path as he goes. You watch as Niffty races to grab the debris, polishing the floor until it sparkles.

“We’ll ornate this cesspool – with some old redemption flare – and show these simpletons some proper class and style!”

A shadowy figure rises from behind the Radio Demon, a mischievous smile stretching unnaturally as he grins back. The shadows black inky claws grasp at his shoulders, incredibly large antlers protruding from its head and nodding before he brushes it away. Reaching for Charlie, he pulls her into a twirl once more as Vaggie watches on, wide eyed and speechless when her friend is pulled away just out of her grasp.

“Here below the ground - I’m sure your plan is sound”

He lets go of her hand, eyes spinning as she dizzily steps back while he proclaims ~

“They’ll spend a little time ~”

A bright light flashes under the door, eyes wide in shock as your ears flatten against your head as a soft whimper escapes your lips.

“Down at this Hazbin Ho-”

An explosion rings out behind the front door, the entire entrance engulfed in burning flames that sear your skin. Dear lord, what was with this place and fire?!

Oh right. _Its Hell_ …

The door blows right off its hinges, the lavish wood flying through the air and sweeping Niffty off her feet, your eyes wide as they follow her joyous scream of excitement.

“WAHHOOOOO!” She screams.

The Radio Demon stands with curious eyes as he turns towards the blast, the smile on his lips widening as his head pokes around the gigantic gaping hole in the wall. You watch in horror as crackling static sounds in the small space, head tilting to the side as he weighs up the opponent before him.

“Is that a … is that a fuckin’ Zeppelin?”


	9. You Could Say The Kick Was Right Outta Hell ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho, sinners are we ready?!   
> Shit is about to hit the fan!

“Are you guys not seeing this shit?! _That’s a fuckin’ Zeppelin_!” You whisper, jaw dropped to the floor as the Radio Demon steps out from the hole in the wall and down the cobblestone pathway – as if a damned flying rocket launcher wasn’t pointed at him.

Out of sheer curiosity (or stupidity) everyone casually began to trail behind the red demon as the pilot poked its head out of the cavernous crack in the orange stained glass. You note that everyone, including yourself, is no longer dressed to the tens in vintage clothing, but has reverted back to their usual and respective styles.

“HA! Well, well, well! Look who it isssss harbouring the sssssstriped _freak_!” You stare up at the giant snake eyes that stare down at your small ensemble. What was with everyone and the absolutely strange attire and bizarre demon forms?

This douche probably had some _stupid name_ like Steven Slitherworth.

“We meet again, Alasssstor!” The gentlemanly snake hisses, clenching its claws into a tight fist as everyone peers up at the Radio Demon.

 _Alastor,_ huh? You recalled hearing the name at the door before the Radio Demon barged in. Apparently, everyone except Charlie was surprised at the very humanised name that belonged to one of the most prolific demons in Hell.

Tilting his head with a mischievous smile, he rubs his temple before looking back up at the ZEPPELIN’s pilot.

“Hmm, do I know you?”

The pilot deflates, rolling its slitted eyes as it retreats back into the recesses of the mechanical marvel that floats high above.

“Oh yesss you do…” gears and moving metal scrape against your eardrums as you stare up at Angel, who is more or less unfazed by the threat of a turf war happening on Charlie’s front yard, “And thissss time I have the element of … SSSSSURPRISSE!”

You stand, watching in terror while your stomach drops, tail shaking as a gigantic gun that is bigger than your whole collective group drops from the zeppelin, confused as to why nobody was even bothering to move out of the way or run for their undead lives. The heat from it was immense, in a meager attempt to shield your eyes a pale arm comes up above your brow and you swallow your fear, preparing for the worst for both you and the group of rag-tag-misfits and holly-jolly princesses that you had only ran into a few hours beforehand.

The light seemed to dim infinitely, a soft click ringing out across the courtyard as Alastor’s smile grew wide and menacing.

Staring down at the glowing ring of fire that _literally tears the ground to pieces_ , greedily sucking up the debris into a fiery pit of nothingness as long black tendrils of darkness emerge from the depths below.

“Ho-ly shit” the words slip past your lips, almost passing through the air unheard save for the slight twitch in what you assumed was the Radio Demons ear. Whipping your head behind you, another hole appears as it swallows the laser gun and crushes it to pieces, plumes of thick red smoke filling the air on all sides.

Your eyes flicker back to Alastor, who controls the tendrils with little to no effort. Dark and ghostly spectres float around the zeppelin, their stretched and worn expressions haunting to say the least. Spying the sudden change in his demeanor, you watch as the Radio Demon’s eyes reflect little more than static, the sound of white noise filling your ears and clawing at your heart as the tendrils squeeze the warship, light bursting from the cracks and seams.

***BOOM***

The explosion rings in your ears, the sounds deafening despite the hands that clutch at your ears and attempt to ease some of the pain of surely becoming deaf.

The clouds of burning ash and smoke clear, a glowing red aura surrounding the Radio Demon as the the battle before us fades into nothingness. Sheer, unadulterated terror clutches at your stomach as you catch sight of the very, incredibly, unbelievably taunting and malicious smile that stretched from one side of his pale face to the other, red eyes blazing as the carnage around him came to a close.

“Well I’m starved! Who wants some jambalaya? My mother showed me a _wonderful recipe_ for jambalaya. In fact, it _nearly killed her!_ Hahaha!” Turning with tired looking bags under his eyes after such a violent display of pure and raw power, the Radio Demon simply turns before laughing his way down the cobblestone driveway, Niffty bouncing gleefully with every step.

“You could say the kick was _straight out of Hell!_ ” His voice grew weaker as you slowly trailed behind, shuffling like a zombie while everyone just continues on with their day.

“ _I am on a ROLL!_ Yes sir, _this_ is the start of some _real changes_ down here!” He rambled, on and on as you slowly caught up with the rest of your strange companions. Everyone started to make their way through the new open archway, Charlie eyeing the gaping hole in her hotel wall before grabbing Vaggie by the shoulders and steering her inside.

You stand before the entrance, frozen on the spot as everyone laughs and chatters about what’s on tomorrow.

“Are we going to pretend that didn’t just happen?” You whisper, eyes wide with tears threatening to spill as everyone casually heads back to the hotel. Staring up at Alastor, you recoil as he smiles sweetly down at you.

“Don’t loose your head, _my dear_ … Try not to think about it, and _don't forget to smile!_ ”

You glare as he hums and follows behind Charlie, heat rising in your cheeks when he turns back towards you with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alastor is such a smug bastard ~~   
> I will see you lovelies on Friday ;:)


	10. Reflection | noitcelfeR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a total side note ~   
> But its 44 degrees already and its not even lunchtime!   
> For y'all non-Celsius people that's 111.2 Fahrenheit... I can literally see my bottle of water evaporating. 
> 
> S E N D H A L P!!

You had barely made it back inside the hotel before excusing yourself to go and get some rest. The Radio Demon seemed convinced that you were some member of staff here, which you had attempted and failed to right him on that little preconception of his.

“Are you sure, ( _Y/N_ )?” Charlie gazed up at you hopefully, a small smile on her lips as the Radio Demon led the patrons of the Hotel to towards the dining room.

“I’m sure, Thank-you so much for everything today, Charlie” your lips pull into a tired smile as her eyes soften, “besides, the whole … being in hell thing? I think I need to sleep it off”

Not to mention come to term with the whole ground opening up and eating someone _and_ their warship alive…

“Trust me when I tell you I know just how hard it is to get comfortable with the idea”

“I’ll try my best to work through it all” your tail flickers nervously, ears on high alert as the demons in the other room start chatting and throwing cusses at each other. “I really appreciate your hospitality”

“Pshhh, its nothing. We can’t preach kindness if we don’t practice it” her nervous laugh is cut short as she glares at the kitchen and dining room doors, worry etched onto her features.

“You go deal with … all that” you chuckle to yourself as a pale hand gestures to the obscene words that flow from across the hallway.

“Ha, thanks. I know you just got here but … if you need a way to earn some cash you could always help me out with a few things here and there?”

“I’ll be sure to take you up on the offer!” Her kindness and generosity hit you in a different kind of way. You were so used to people taking what they wanted from you, discarding you like trash and walking away not caring for what state their treachery left you in. As she turned to leave, you couldn’t help but reach out and grab her shoulder.

“Charlie … be careful. If what Vaggie said is true – that guy – that _Radio Demon_ – he cannot be trusted. Just, be careful”

With a nod, she leaves you and practically sprints towards the dining room and dodges a wayward plate that comes flying out of the open doorway. With a sympathetic smile, your body seems to turn and move on its own.

Your feet ached as you climbed the grandiose staircase, the banisters well worn and plush carpeted steps creaked every so often as you climbed to the third floor.

The door to room 312 was adorned with a shining golden plaque that gleamed in the candlelight of the hotel corridor. You pushed the key inside the lock, exhaustion overtaking you as the heavy ebony door creaked open when you stepped inside. The room Charlie had given you truly was an elegant composition of colours and ornate pieces of furniture. Everything was an incredibly rich gold, ebony and wine colour – the walls covered in the same wallpaper as the lobby but against the far wall was the most comfortable bed you had ever seen in your afterlife.

Mainly because, you had yet to sleep after a day and a half of madness and sleep deprivation.

Wasting no time, you threw yourself into the white and absolutely snuggley sheets but was quick to realise why they called it Hell.

As soon as you sunk into the mass of bedding, you felt uncomfortable. In that ‘I-have-an-itch-to-scratch-but-can’t-reach-it’, kind of way. While fluffy and warm, you grew _too warm._ Wrapping yourself below the blankets and sticking a leg out made no difference. What would have once calmed your nerves now put them on edge.

Huffing in defeat, you decided to sus the rest of the room. You spied the door to the bathroom, smiling when your eyes fell on the pristine shower and large squared shower head.

As soon as you reached for the tap you knew this would be an experience that you’d have to grow in to. The water started as incredibly icy as it fell in cascades around the stall, taking at least 5 minutes before it warmed up enough to be bearable … but not hot enough to relax the muscles in your back and shoulders.

Sighing and stepping out of your ramshackle clothing, you moved into the shower stall and let the water engulf you.

Hell, huh?

_Here you were._

Your ears drooped as water filled them, trying to convince yourself that you were a good person was a far stretch. You begged, borrowed and stole to make ends meet. In your lifetime, you had sold your soul to what you laugh-idly now realised was not the devil, but some money hungry sod who saw you only as a cash grab. Your dreams lay discarded and scattered in the wind, you had never really pursued your hobbies and natural talents, and all for what?

You had tipped your hand too far, all that time lifting small and usually forgettable items caught up to you and someone finally snapped.

And where were the riches now? Where were all the people that had done just as wrong as you had?

Still up there, living their lives without a care in the world.

“They’ll all end up down here anyways. Who cares about them?” You sighed, eyes falling to the black tipped snow-white tail that slowly became cleaner as the depressingly lukewarm water ran down your bared body.

Grabbing for a towel, you weren’t even surprised that while yes, they were in one piece, they were also made of an oddly scratchy material that left your skin feeling more irritated than comforted.

As you moved towards the mirror above the sink, finally your eyes caught sight of the demon you had now become.

The first thing was less of a shock and now a known fact. Gone was the well tanned olive skin you once possessed – in the proper lighting that filled the bathroom you saw that it was not in fact grey like that of the destructive demon now making jambalaya downstairs, but a strangely muted pink colour. Your fingers trailed down past your chest, towards your hips that had seemed to grow out more than you remembered. The only bonus? You had a banging ass. And a damned tail.

Your bright blue eyes examined your face, something that you had realised as you stared at the reflection was that you looked like some strange amalgamation of a fox and a regular old human. In such a short timespan here, you had seen princesses and spider demons alike. You supposed a human with ears and a tail wasn’t THE MOST outlandish thing you would see.

And your hair?

Gone was your long and straight dark brown hair, replaced with strange purplish hue of hair growing from the roots that slowly transitioned to the glowing ghostly grey and white that curled at the tips of your hair. Noting that your tail and ears were roughly the same, but with a more monotoned colour scheme that – thankfully – matched the rest of you. The black tipped ears twitched as you scrutinised them with a quizzical stare. These bad boys would take some getting used to.

Your prismarine blue eyes darted around your head and narrowed with a tight-lipped smile. You supposed it could have been worse… you could have been a snake.

Instead you looked like some strange arctic fox, you thanked your lucky stars that you didn’t have whiskers.

For a pristine and overall grey-scale appearance – everything seemed to work together beautifully.

Forcing a wide smile, you couldn’t help the small scream that filled the bathroom.

You should have known!

That _damned_ Radio Demon. Angel Dust. Vaggie. Even Charlie.

Each and every one of them had a set of razor-sharp fangs.

And _dear Lucifer_ … so did you.

At least you took some comfort in knowing the canines were the only teeth that had truly grown longer, but as you ran your finger across the bottoms of your teeth a small droplet of blood welled up on the surface of the skin. Apparently, they were sharp enough to do some decent damage.

“UGH!” You hissed, grabbing for the towel and turning back to the bedroom once again.

Staring down at the tattered and frankly dirty as all heck clothes you had fallen in, you couldn’t help but feel a bit depressed. All you wanted was a cuddly hoodie and some jeans to curl up in and read a good book.

The chances of that happening?

A big ol’ zero.

Discarding the towel and making sure the door was locked and barred from all external interaction, you turned back to the bed and rolled your eyes.

Perhaps some sleep, no matter how uncomfortable the bed, would be a good idea?

Deciding not to fight the idea and desperate for some form of relief, you opened the sliding glass door that led to your balcony lookout. The somewhat comforting breeze placed a small satisfied smile upon your lips.

Curling up into the incredibly squishy mattress, you slowly found your consciousness falling into darkness.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I’m kind of of the opinion that Hell is kind of like the good place, where things are just okay but not overly perfect. It is Hell after all. That’s why the water wouldn’t be the perfect temperature, the beds aren’t like a cloud, and the company – namely the guests - aren’t the most accommodating to newcomers. 
> 
> Second update incoming in 3... 2... 1...


	11. A Rude Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh heh, Alastor is the best

… What a big fucking lie that was.

You were woken up by an incessant pounding on your door, brows pulled down in a low frown, you lifted your head enough to stare at the wall and scream,

“Go away” with a groggy sigh, your head hit the pillow you had been cuddling once again.

Five seconds of respite later, the pounding started again.

“I said, piss off. I’m trying to sleep” the sun had barely risen, you knew it was early and you were determined to stay in this comfortable spot for as long as possible. Sighing into the pillow, you snuggled in close and relished in the next minute before your name was called through the heavy wooden door.

“Get up, ( _Y/N_ ), its time for some fuckin’ breakfast!”

You groaned, grabbing the spare pillow and throwing it with all your might at the wall.

“Just let me sleep”

“No chance in Hell, toots. If I have to break this damn door down, I’ll kill ya… again, hahahaha” he laughed, the heavy mafia accent had you rolling your eyes.

Angel.

Of course, it was.

Rolling out of bed and collecting your tattered clothing from the incredibly daunting descent into Hell, you quickly donned them and pulled your shorts up over your now incredibly wide hips, careful of the tail that happily swayed back and forth.

Reaching for the door handle, you stare up at the spider demon that casually leans against your door frame, a set of gloveless claws raking through his hair.

“You know, I never imagined waking up to an _Angel_ would be so damned terrifying” you snickered, watching as he scoffed and looked high above at the ceiling, muttering about how this place was testing his patience.

“Yeh, yeah. Lets just go grab sumthin’ to eat before I waste away” he dramatically groans, eyes straight ahead and tight smile wearing thin as his thigh high black boots click along the hardwood floors.

“Is it even possible to die of hunger down here?” Curious, your bright blue eyes beam up at him.

“Ha. Wouldn’t that be a treat?” He laughs, gold tooth shining in the candlelight as you both approach the staircase. “It’s nearly impossible ta kill a demon - But I’m sure the psychos out there ‘av their ways” he shoots you a wink as he carelessly slides down the banister off the hotel’s grand staircase.

You roll your eyes at the show pony, carefully making your descent before following him into the kitchen where – presumably – everyone was sitting to eat breakfast.

Charlie was beaming, hugging and animatedly talking to Vaggie – who honestly looked like she wanted to stab her eyeball with a fork. Husker sat staring at a wall, cradling a brown bottle in his claws and drinking it without much of a bother for anyone else in the room.

Angel pulled a stool out beside Husk, batting his lashes as he blew a kiss at the cat.

“Heyyyy kitty”

“Fuck off”

“That’s no way to be talkin’ first thing in the mornin’” Angel spoke with a raised brow, leaning in closer to wrap his arm around Husker. A low growl emitted from the cat, dark eyes flashing as he swiveled and hissed at the spider. 

“Touch me, and I’ll break your fuckin’ arm off”

“I like it rough, Husky” he breathes, lashes fluttering as he leans forwards and makes kissy faces at the poor cat demon.

The old grouch huffed his annoyance, grasping the neck of the bottle and downing the contents in a solid gulp or two. You couldn’t lie … you were mildly impressed with the effort it took to drain the bottle in such a short time.

Niffty danced around the kitchen, dusting and picking up every little spec of dirt that lay dormant on the kitchen floor. Her hyperactive attitude sent you spinning as your azure blue eyes darted around to watch her work, loosing track as she zipped out the door and came back in a flurry of red poodle skirts and orange hair.

Humming in the kitchen, a merry little tune drifted up from the stove top. You slowly turned, watching as the red demon flipped a few sets of eggs over in the cast-iron pan. Turning, his crimson eyes shone as he pulled toast from the appliances strewn across the bench.

“AH! It appears everyone has joined us for breakfast! How _splendid_ – how _spectacular_!” He cheered, the phantom audience that lingered within him breaking out into a chorus of applause.

With a click of his fingers, the long ornate table in the center of the room sits adorned with an assortment of breakfast foods, immediately the smells churned in your stomach and elicited a quiet rumble. Across the rich mahogany sat a banquet of towering pancake stacks, fluffy scrambled eggs, perfect pastries and fruits of all colours.

“This looks AMAZING Alastor!” Charlie gushed, wasting no time and loading her plate with a healthy stack of pancakes and drizzling syrup down the sides of the devilishly decadent golden cakes.

“Not a worry in Hell, my dear! We must ensure our staff and guests alike are well fed!” He beams, fork stabbing into a croissant before dropping it down to his silver plate. The sentiment sounded nice, at least until he pulled the fork back and you cringed as the spokes were all curled and twisted.

“Yeah, look at all those wayward souls we gotta’ feed” Angel wheezes, gesturing around the table as everyone stares at him with owlish eyes. He sinks into the plush chair a little, clearing his throat as Vaggie’s stares daggers down at him.

“In any case – we should discuss who will be doing what as we get this _passion project_ off the ground, wouldn’t you agree Princess?” The Radio Demon tilts his head, Charlie clearing her throat as she chewed thoughtfully.

“Absolutely!”

The table grew quiet for a moment before roles were assigned to the rag-tag group of misfits – the Radio Demon and Charlie coming to the conclusion that she should keep on the marketing campaign to rake in potential customers. She bargained for the rights to plan the various treatments and rehabilitation programs for each of the patrons in the hotel, the red demon smiling all the while and entertaining the fantasy of ‘making a difference’.

His eyes turned to Husk and Niffty, who both nibbled away on the smallest plates, laughing and stating that he already filled the role of a cleaner and bartender. Husk huffs in response, while Niffty bounces up and down and nods enthusiastically.

Vaggie stood her ground when the Radio Demon sweetly asked if she would man the front desk, telling him to stick it when the heavens don’t shine and that she would help Charlie stay on task. You knew her motivations were truly to keep an eye on Charlie and to ensure that she didn’t fall under the Radio Demon’s sickeningly suffocating grasp.

Since Angel was a guest, he was simply told to stay out of everyone’s way without causing too much of a ruckus.

“I shall take the helm, being the benefactor and manager of such a fine establishment! Now,” his sinister eyes scan the table, landing on your small form as you grab a strawberry and pick off the green stem.

“I do believe I will need an assistant!”

Dropping the strawberry and letting it roll on the plate, you stare up in disbelief.

“No chance” you grumble, sending a pleading glance over to Vaggie whose mouth opens to intervene – only to be shut by a zip that replaces her mouth. Frustrated, she unzips the jaws and goes to speak, only for a metal plate to replace the zips with the smallest of waves of the Radio Demon’s hand.

“Now, now, _darling,_ we all must pitch in to build this hotel’s stellar reputation” his glowing eyes flicker back to yours, sweat beginning to pool at the base of your neck as he leans forward ever so casually. Those gloved fingers of his lace below his chin as he smiles sweetly, yellow teeth gleaming in the light.

“I don’t work here” you try, only to be cut short by a hand in the air, the silencing gesture from him sending a small wave of fury through your bloodstream.

“Nonsense! Absolutely all help is appreciated, my dear”

Sitting in silence, you openly glare at him with little trepidation.

“Is this a joke?” You deadpan, looking directly into his eyes with arms crossed. You didn’t care if you looked like a petulant child.

“No, I don’t believe so” the crowd from within him laughed, the in sync of a ‘wooooah’ sound echoing around the room. 

“I’m not some kind of … errand-boy” you huff, blowing a lock of hair from your eye-line and staring over at the wall.

He takes your word as some sort of twisted agreement, laughing as he continues nibbling away at his plate of pastries and fruits – humming away like the jackass that he was.

Seething with rage, you pushed the plate away and stormed from the dining hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you spot the obscure cult-classic reference? I'll be super impressed if you did! 
> 
> Another set of updates will be coming next week on Monday (YO THIS FIC GETS REEEEAAALLLLL IN THE NEXT FEW UPDATES) -- until then have an awesome weekend you fabulous humans!


	12. The First Order Of Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're one hell of a smart ass who does indeed - reap what they sew.

What a fucking load of shit.

There you stood, glaring at the tight-fitting pencil skirt, red blouse and black corset that cinched your waist. Your legs sat shrouded in delicate sheer black stockings, your feet encased in red pumps that clicked as you walked. Charlie stood beside the mirror, smiling and sticking her thumbs up as you uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot.

“I hate it” you growl, sapphire eyes flickering down the ensemble. You were going to kill him.

“You look nice” Charlie steps forward, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I look like a poster child for some _slutty_ assistant porno” your ears burned, flattening against your head as you stomped your foot to the floor.

“Hey!” Angel raises his head from underneath the pillows that still sat haphazardly strewn across your bed, hand going to his chest as if he were offended.

Sticking your tongue out, you fold your arms by your chest.

Yesterday ended in some otherworldly kind of fiasco, the hullabaloo of you being so rudely thrust into a position you didn’t even want to be in. You supposed being on Charlie’s payroll wouldn’t be too bad though, with a small ‘Sorry-For-Being-Dropped-Into-Hell’ bonus that let you spend some cash on various new clothes that weren’t tattered strip club costumes. Some of the clothing was super comfy and definitely better for weekends off, but other stuff – like this stupid getup – was a bit more ‘professional’ looking for a prolific and dangerous demons assistant.

“What could he _possibly_ even want assistance with? Aren’t you and Vaggie the managers and owners?” You try, kicking the heel of the shoe to the carpet and sinking down into the white fluff that was your bed. The whole notion of working for this asshat seemed too far fetched, he hadn’t slung this job on Angel or Vaggie. Nope _. It was you_.

Your tail swished from side to side, an unconscious afterthought as it slipped through a small seam allowance you had Niffty add upon your arrival back at the hotel yesterday. Come to think of it, you’d need her to do the same on almost all of your clothing.

“We never really gave ourselves titles, we were doing everything for the hotel so it didn’t matter” she sighs and moved to sit beside you, hands in her lap as she fiddles with a loose thread in her pants, continuing “we need the help, and if all he wants is some help organising guests and their affairs … then maybe it’d be worth it? I can’t keep sitting by and watching as more and more of my people are slaughtered every year”

Guilt stabbed at your insides.

Sure, you had experience working with the worst of the worst.

You had danced for the most terrible people and stolen whatever they had held close to their persons just to survive.

“We have to try” she whispered.

“You’re one hell of a sales person, Charlie” you joke, laughing and tucking a stray strand of silver back into the low sitting bun you had fashioned for yourself.

“Thanks … I get it from my dad”

“I suppose you’d have to be pretty damned convincing to … you know …” you search for the right words ... 

“Destroy all a’ humanity? Doom us ta’ eternal damnation?” Angel offers, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

“Did you _have_ to phrase it like that?” You hiss, glancing back over to Charlie and pulling her into a close hug.

“If all I have to do is run files and papers up and down thirteen flights of stairs a day – then I’ll do it. For the hotel. _Not for him_ ”

She visibly squeaked, eyes shining bright as the alarm clock on your bedside table flashed to 8:50am. Sighing, you stood and straightened out your skirt and corset – somewhat relieved that it stopped short of your hips because dear lord if it went any further down you’d absolutely suffocate.

“I had better get going” you sigh, tail sweeping with anxiety.

“I believe Alastor has set up his office across from the check in desk. Second door on the left when you get down to the lobby” she grins, “This is the start of something … _good_! I can just feel it” bidding you a farewell, she drags Angel out of the room, his whining voice echoing down the narrow hallways about being stuck in a never-ending cycle of boredom.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way out the hallway and lock the door behind you, pocketing the brass key and working your way down the steps one at a time. Perhaps it was just the veil of mediocrity that Hell blanketed ordinary things in – and you were no stranger to wandering around stairs and stages in platforms – but your toes ached with every step that you found yourself descending.

At least it was only the discomfort of your toes and not lashings and burning plumes of volcanic magma.

“Good morning, ( _Y/N_ )!” the small voice drew your attention, eyes flicking to a bag of cement mix that had legs.

What the hell?

“Good morning?” you offered, a breath of relief leaving your lips as the brightly coloured eye peeks out from behind the bag, “Oh Nifty – what’s all that for?”

She smiled, the wide toothy grin unsettling as a cloud of powdered cement fills the air.

“I’m fixing the door! Can’t have guests coming in through _a hole in the wall_ ” she laughs, head tilting to the side as she stares up at your attire, “I really, reeeeeallly like your outfit!”

“Aw, thanks! It’s nowhere near as … umm … _cute_ as your little ensemble”

She blushes, and damn if its not the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen in your life… well – _after life._

“Oh man ~ I’d better get back to fixing that door! Good luck today” she smiled, the whole encounter really brightening up your day.

At least until you turned and faced the menacing looking door.

Staring blank eyed at the door, the shining plaque engraved with the elegant calligraphy that read; _Manager_.

Raising your fist, you didn’t even have to knock before the static filled voice called from within.

“Do come in!”

Twisting the golden doorknob, you stepped inside the office and felt your brows pull into a frown. There he sat, pinstripe suit and high shoulder pads casually reclining in a plush red desk chair, eyes shining beyond the small monocle that adorned his features. His eyes dared not to raise from the paperwork before him, his lips pulled into an easy smile as he hummed a quiet tune to himself.

Looking up, his grin grew wider as he stood from the swivelling chair.

“Ah! Welcome my dear! Please do have a seat” gesturing for the chair that sat beside his desk, you hesitatingly made your way towards it, making an effort to grab the wooden top rail and placing it as far away from his side as possible.

Dissatisfied with where you had placed the chair, his happy tune stopped to make way for an incredibly low frequency of static. You had discovered that the ears atop your head picked up slightly more than you ever had in life, which – lucky for you – picked up the lower frequencies that emanated from the demon.

Oh goodie.

“Might I ask what tasks you would have me perform, sir?” You ask, voice wavering as you sat in the ebony chair, tucking your tail beside you and holding your clammy hands together as if posing for a yearbook photograph.

“Now, now. None of this ‘sir’ business! _Just Alastor_ will do quite nicely. I do not believe I caught _your_ name, dear” his hands move in a flourish of red and black, eyes peering down his monocle as you shifted in the seat. A small click of his fingers sent the door swinging on its hinges before clicking softly back into place.

You swallow your fear and put on a brave face, ignoring the way your ear twitches nervously.

“Alright, _just Alastor_ ,” you smirk, apparently your parroting of his exact words did not impress him, “the name is ( _Y/N_ )”

His eyes widen with the smallest increment, and you notice his grin widen just a fraction more. The entire sight utterly unsettling, sending whatever breakfast you had managed to scrounge together in the early hours of the morning swirling around your stomach as if on a spin cycle.

“What a truly _delightful name,_ ( _Y/N_ )” he practically purrs. “Now you must be wondering about what tasks you shall be undertaking as my assistant, hmmm?”

With a nod, you decide to stay silent – caring not to pull him up on repeating your original question.

“Now do speak up if any of this seems _too taxing,_ I wouldn’t want to wear my employees out” he hummed, the static fading in and out of each word he spoke.

“Do tell, I’m positively _bursting with the anticipation_ of knowing my duties and responsibilities” the sarcasm drips off your tongue. At this point, the corset is straining at your stomach, the lacing done incredibly too tight making it extremely uncomfortable to breathe.

“Ha! Well, I’m _positively moved_ by how eager you are to start. As we are expecting an increase in guests, you should check that _each and every room_ is in no less than _perfect_ condition”

Your jaw threatens to drop to the floor, features drooping. His menacing smile stretching as he leans forward over the desk, lashes batting up and down as he feigns innocence.

What an absolutely abhorrent request. There were so many rooms on one floor alone, let alone all 13 of them! That wasn’t even counting the recreational rooms that Charlie and Vaggie had mentioned in passing.

“Alast – _Sir –_ There are more than a _thousand rooms_ in this hotel! I cannot possib-” you plead, tail sweeping across the floor as you stand from the chair, your meek form overshot by the towering terror that was the Radio Demon.

“I’d check them all myself, but I have far too much paperwork and financing to account for here! You had better get started, if you want to check _all_ of the rooms by _days end_!” 

“You can’t be serious?!” Seething with rage, he simply nods his head, craning his neck to the side with a narrow gaze and smug smile.

“Aha ha ha ha! Now, now _my dear_ ( _Y/N_ ). I wouldn’t dream of sending you off to such an … important task … without the proper equipment” he chuckled, immediately knowing it was more to himself than for your own amusement. Green fire swirled around his enclosed fist, his eyes focusing on the dancing flames as his palm opened. His claw like fingers opened to reveal a floating key, the black mass turning in a tight circle as he held it out towards you.

“What is that?”

“Darling I thought it would be obvious! It’s a skeleton key! It shall grant you access to any room you desire” his voice positively sings whilst you eye the twisting key with uncertainty.

Skeptical of his intentions, you cross your arms by your chest, hip touting to the side as you stare at the key.

“And you’re just … giving it to me?”

“Is generosity so foreign to you, that you would question it so openly?” His head tilts to the side once again, neck seeming to stretch to a far too inhuman angle whilst the demon awaits your response.

“I didn’t take you for the _generous type_ ” you stand your ground, reaching forward and grasping the key and storming from the candlelit office. You had a damned task to do, and if this is what payed your non-existent bills and kept such an abuse of power like a skeleton key out of his grasp then damn it – you were going to go check each and every one of the rooms in this godforsaken hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how Al is so smug, like ... he literally gives no shits.


	13. Don’t Look Now – But Someone Is Watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have no life and its the ultimate month of giving, I will be uploading the second part to this chapter called, 'Let’s Play Doctor' this Wednesday on Christmas Day :)

Your hand slid down the rail, shoes in one hand and the skeleton key tucked into your waistband. A tired sigh left your lips as you stared at the kitchen door. You had missed dinner – missed the whole day actually.

This wild goose chase that that dick head had sent you on took far longer than you had anticipated, your silver ombre hair now sat in loose waves, the low bun discarded long ago when you had checked the fifth floor. Who knew you could sweat so much in Hell?

The Radio Demon had wanted each and every one of the rooms in the hotel checked, and so you did. A few of the rooms were found in absolute disrepair, you made a mental note and planned on throwing a big ol’ stack of papers onto that smug bastards desk telling him just what was wrong with every room – no matter if it was a simple miss hanging curtain, singed carpet or a damned grudge nest in the bathroom.

Slinking into the dark kitchen, your eyes fell to the shining silver refrigerator that was sure to hold a snack or too that you could quickly devour before heading back off to bed in preparation for whatever menial shenanigans the Radio Demon was sure to send your way tomrrow.

“ _Huhhh_ ” Grabbing for the handle you stare blankly at the assorted fruits and vegetables for a moment as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

“What kind of bull-fuckery have you gotten yourself into this time, ( _Y/N_ )?” You mumble as you spy the small plate tucked away in the back of the chilly box. Putting your discarded shoes to the side, you reach in to retrieve the plate.

Charlie.

A small stick-it note sat across the cloudy cling wrap, her neat handwriting scrawled across the red paper.

‘( _Y/N_ ), _I know you were busy with work today and couldn’t make dinner, so here are some leftovers. Don’t work too hard! – Charlie’_

Tearing off the stick-it note and shutting the door, your nerves set on high alert at the soft knock that sounded from the entrance to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You call, voice wavering for a moment, fingers grasping the plate with all you might and peered around the corner. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there were unseen eyes on your back.

“Is anyone there?” pressing onwards, you saw nothing.

You were the rational and very sane kind of person who would scream and yell at those nimrods who blindly walked around in a horror movie, always screaming at the dumb blonde who seemed oblivious to the _serial killer right behind her_.

**_*knock, knock*_ **

“Charlie?” You try again, “Vaggie?”

Getting nothing back in return, you take a tentative step forwards, peering around the cabinet and whispering to yourself,

_“I swear to Lucifer if something jumps out at me, I’m throwing this fucking plate in its ugly face”_

The sleek edge of the pantry door drew closer, your heart racing a million-miles-an-hour as you took a deep breath and called out once more, ready to leg it in opposite directions and up those stairs to your room.

“Angel, I swear if you’re playing a fucking prank, I’ll stab you in the dick”

_***knock, knock, KNOCK***_

“Okay, that’s _not fucking cool"_

You steadied your nerves, ignoring the puff of tail as you swallowed you fear and readied yourself to confront whatever monster had snuck its way into the hotel and was playing tricks on you.

Armed with your dinner, you leaned around the corner and peered into the darkness of the lobby with steeled eyes.

“ ** _Whatever seems to be the matter, my dear?_** ”

The purr of a voice sends you sky high, the echoing sounds of the plate dropping to the floor and shattering into a million shards had _nothing_ on the adrenaline that rushed through your veins. You acted on instinct, and you’d deny any other motivations until the day you died … again.

Swinging your arm behind you, a pale had cut through the air until it struck its target – a loud _slap_ ringing out across the kitchen as you stared wide eyed at the voice.

The stinging in your palm felt like an afterthought as you realised _exactly who you had just slapped,_ the red inflammation starting to swell on their sickeningly grey complexion.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” You gushed, the words falling from your lips like a waterfall – unable to stop, “I just, there was a sound – and I – oh my – and you just – _ya can’t just sneak up on people_!”

Stop.

Talking.

( _Y/N_ ).

Alastor looked almost stunned, as if a slap to the face and broken plate was the last thing he expected when snuck up on you like a creeper.

Shaking his head with a stunned smile and the echo of small bells, his dangerous gaze fell down to your terrified features.

“Not to worry my dear, it is _entirely my fault!_ ” His boisterous radio host voice rings out through the kitchen and staff dining hall, with a flick of his wrist and a snap of his fingers the kitchen is bathed in a warm light, the Edison bulbs flickering to life with a welcoming aura.

It was almost an insult to the thick tension that filled the air – so tangible you could touch it.

“Again, super sorry. I uh … I really do apologise” shifting from foot to foot, you move to say something else, perhaps grovel for your undead-life before a stinging pain runs up your leg, “- Ah?!”

His crimson eyes dart down before you even realise your mistake, you had – _like a fool_ – dropped a ceramic plate to the floor which now sat in pieces with various foods decorating the once pristine floor.

“Shit” curses flew from your lips as you hobbled over to the counter – careful to avoid any of the broken ceramic that littered the floor. If you weren’t so damned focused on the blood oozing from your foot you might have noticed the way the _usually upbeat and incessantly annoying_ radio demon _grew quiet_ for just that moment _too_ long, your ears picking up on the thick static that seemed to fill the air.

“My dear it appears you are in quite a bit of … _distress_ ” his voice sounded darker than usual, your eyes glancing up with brows pulled so far down you were sure your face would break.

“No kidding! My foot looks like a fucking tomato-sauce sachet with a HOLE in it!” You hiss, ears flat against your head as you stare down at the shards of white that stick out of your skin.

He shoots you a confused look, brows arching. If you had the ability to read minds his was probably wondering, ‘what in the nine circles is _tomato sauce?!’_

Air hisses through your teeth as you hype yourself up to pull it out, only stopping as two strong hands grasp you under your arms and lift you onto the counter.

“What – Alastor wait!” Your sapphire eyes glare down at him as he hums to himself, tutting as if you were some child left alone with a pair of scissors.

Why did you have to take those damned shoes off?!

“Nonsense! ‘Tis but a scratch” he laughed, eyes narrow as his grin stretched wide. You could have _almost_ convinced yourself that he was taking care of you.

Then you remembered _exactly_ who you were dealing with.

“My foot is bleeding like a waterfall, Alastor. That’s not a scratch!” Your foot had begun to throb, a cold numbness seeping into your toes as red-hot blood dripped from them onto a puddle on the tiled flooring. My god, Niffty was going to kill you once she saw this mess in the morning – that was if he didn’t make you clean it after he patched you up.

“Oh hush, I am sure we have a first-aid kit lying around here somewhere” he hums to himself, digging through the cupboards and drawers in search, “we can’t have one of our employees bleeding out in the kitchen – _now can we_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead set, the only time I have had ketchup was at a Maccas that was selling it in little sauce packets … can’t say I’m a fan ~ it tastes so sweet. Tomato sauce – or 'dead-horse' as we sometimes call it if you’re a bogan **I’ll throw a link to the wiki page for a good laugh** - is a bit more savoury and goes sooo well with a chip sammich ~ smiths’ original chips on buttered bread with tomato sauce? *Italian chefs kiss* it’s the perfect summer snack 
> 
> [](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bogan)


	14. Let’s Play Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL YOU SPECTACULAR SINNERS!   
> I've dead set just finished setting my Christmas table and it looks fuckin' mint ~ I'm so super impressed with how it turned out for family lunch today. 
> 
> I wanted to ask if people would be interested in seeing a grand-opening reboot - where an 'unnamed' (its totally not Alastor) denizen of hell tries to help the hotel by throwing an extravagant party to get people to check in ... Or just have demons rock up to the hotel and meh. 
> 
> I'm 666% sure that I want to do the first because I wan't to explore something I've just introduced in chapters 15/16 but let me know in the comments down below!
> 
> UUUGH this was a long set of notes, so enjoy the chapter with our favorite resident serial killer~

Your hand goes to your ankle, grabbing at it tightly as you frown down at the pieces of ceramic that still protrude from your heel. Part of you was ready to pull them out, but you weren’t too sure if you had the nerve.

“AHA!” He proclaims, gleaming grin turning back to you as he holds in his hand a small box with ‘first aid’ strewn across it in haphazard lettering.

Apparently, labels sucked in Hell too…

“That’s great, but um, I don’t think I can pull em out…” a small hiccup rises in your throat, a roll of his eyes sending a flicker of annoyance through your veins which replaced the slowly fading adrenaline.

“Ha, ha! Well you’re in luck – I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve” with a waggle of his eyebrows, you aren’t sure if he means actual magic tricks or medical knowledge. For your own sanity – you convinced yourself it was the latter.

Heart beating in your ears, you stared down at the Radio Demon, his eyes keenly taking in the ways in which the sharp edges had buried themselves into your foot.

“My dear, why _were_ you so on _edge_?”

You stare dumbly, a woozy feeling stirring in your stomach either from the sight of seeing a torrential amount of blood leaving your body or the lack of food during the day. Perhaps its the shitty joke he just tried to crack?

“I heard a – I _thought_ I heard something” you wince as he plucks a piece of plate from your heel, a hiss escaping your lips as you stare at the ceiling, the door, anywhere but at the demon kneeling before you in the blood that had been circulating around your body less than five minutes ago.

“Jumping at _shadows_ , are we, hmmm?” He laughs, the crowd he carried in his pocket carrying the merry tune as his long claws pulled another shard from you.

_Why did that tone make you feel like a child who was being scolded by someone far superior to them?_

“Maybe I’m just tired after a ridiculous day of work” you grunt, malice on your tongue as you stare down at him with a scowl.

He seems unphased, a smug smile on his lips as he raises a quizzical brow.

“Oh? And how was your first day _, dear?”_

“My _boss_ is an asshole. I checked a thousand rooms today and got attacked by the bats living – _oh dear god!_ ” You whimper as he pulls yet another shard or ceramic from your foot, _half convinced_ there are none left he is simply poking and prodding you to _prolong your suffering_ , “in room 726! **_Are you almost done?!”_** The growl comes out unintentionally, hands shooting to your lips in an effort to calm the harsh sound.

He chuckles to himself.

Actually chuckles at your pain.

You’re going to kick him straight in the jaw and make that slap look like child’s play.

“Fear not, I have obtained the last piece” you hear the clink of ceramic hit the floor, his eyes darting up to your own as he grabs for the first aid box and holds onto your ankle.

If you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the lack of food and blood, you might have found the touch oddly … _Erotic? Electrifying?_ D o w n r i g h t d i s t u r b i n g? Yeah… _that one sounded about right._

He was, after all, covered in your blood. 

“Can we please just hurry this up?” You whisper, daring not to look down as he grabs for the alcohol and a cotton pad. Panic swept through you as your hand rakes through the curls atop your head, this was going to hurt like a bitch.

With no warning, the alcohol makes contact with your skin, a scream tearing through your throat as you bellow forwards and curl in close to your stomach, leg immovable in his vice like grip.

“F-f-f-f-fuck!”

Shaking his head and tutting once again, his crimson orbs meet your own – tears prickling at the edges of your vision as your body threatened to give out after an utterly exhausting day.

“Perhaps next time we shall not use a plate as a weapon on intruders? Awfully dangerous, don’t you think?”

“You! – _I only dropped it because_ – **_FUCKING HELL_** – You snuck up on me!” Shaking your head, you stare down at your foot, thankful that the bleeding had apparently somewhat subsided thanks to the unbending pressure the Radio Demon was putting on the wound.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence – if that were even possible, black spots dancing in your vision as you stare down at the final procedure. He pulls a bandage from the box and pulls the cotton taut, leaving a small bunny ear free. You’re sure he is trying to suffocate your foot and stop blood flow all together, but at the same time you know very well that you wouldn’t have been able to do this yourself.

Getting a solid look at the copious amounts of rusty red that sits in drips, smears and splatters along the tiles, you really do feel like Niffty was going to have a heart attack.

The silence niggles at you, your heartbeat starting to echo in your ears again, you try to spark a conversation.

“How come you’re so good at patching people up? What were you, a doctor?”

“Ha, ha, ha. _No_ ” his dark chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, the sound making you feel like a deer caught in headlights. You wish you had never asked.

Minutes later, you were apparently right as rain.

“Come now, dear, you should be getting to your room!”

“But, all the mess?” You try, slipping from the counter trying your best to walk on the tips of your toes and failing miserably. Stumbling to the side, you fall into the only solid thing you can find.

_Alastor._

Huffing in annoyance, you send him a pleading glance as he rolls his eyes, a playful smirk adorning his features whilst he slips an arm around your waist.

“You need not worry! Niffty will be sure to clean it before it sets into the grout, Aha ha, ha, ha, ha!”

You finally gave out; the black spots had won.

You slumped against his form, letting Alastor practically drag you out of the kitchen as you followed by his side like little more than a _rag doll._

His burgundy fingers clicked, your eyes so focused on the staircase that you didn’t notice the shattered pieces of ceramic dematerialise from the floor, a gleam in his eyes as he carried you to the grand staircase.

You somewhat registered being dropped into your bed, the warm embrace of the fluffy blankets happily trapping you in its untold comfort as you rolled to your side and lazily closed your eyes. A quiet groan left your lips as you felt the cold and mindless echoes of sleep dance around your mind, you cared not for whatever was going on around you – all you wanted was some sleep.

Thankfully, it claimed you with little chasing.

_The maze stoo **d** before y **o** u, the lush and vibra **n** t green of the hedges en **t** icing enough to touch. A humming came from within, laughter and cheer filling the air as you peered up at the shining blue skies, a smile on your lips as you **t** ook a step fo **r** wards into the maze, heeding the signs that pleaded for yo **u** to keep track of every twi **s** t and turn – and above all else, no **t** to get lost. _

_You took the first left, peering down the towering hedges as bubbles filled the air._

_A laug **h** escapes your l **i** ps, fingers caressing each soapy bubble before they pop into a **m** illion scattered stars. _

_You step forward, following the maze with hands trailing across the soft leaves, curiosity pulling you forwards as you hear your name called._

_“Hello?” you smile, listening for the voice – a tanned hand going to your ear as if attempting to locate the source of the sound. Pushing yourself to move faster, you follow the red and gold balloons that drift about the skies, a smile tugging at your lips you bared feet race across the luscious green of the grass_

_“Charlie?”_

_“_ ( _Y/N_ )! _”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news … did you see it? (¬‿¬)
> 
> As always there will be another double upload on Friday so keep an eye out for that ~~ The latter of the uploads will be from a different perspective sooo... *Wink Wink nudge nudge* No smut just yet but - oh boy - we are building to some incredibly high tension soon. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and have a wonderful and safe Christmas Day xx


	15. A Melody That Soothes The Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! As promised a double upload is also coming today ~~ 
> 
> Enjoy!

You drifted in and out, vaguely aware of people coming and going as you rolled onto your side, tucking your arms across your chest and finally getting into a comfortable spot in the endless expanse of your cuddly sheets. Either you had started to get used to everything being just shy of torturous mediocrity or you were _really out of it_.

Muffled voices sounded from all around you, the sounds swirling in and out of your consciousness and you cared not to listen to them, focused solely on the nap you so desperately craved.

“- _Jumping at shadows – fortunate I was there”_

_“Thank you – glad she is getting some sleep”_

_“But there was no blood?”_

The haze of your dreams edges closer, the swirling embrace of sleep seemingly claiming you as the voices continued to argue, with one soft exception filled with careful praise.

“ _Whatever could you be dreaming of?”_ One voice remained after the low clicking of the door echoed around the room. As you shifted in your sleep, a piece of hair had fallen across your cheek – the curl of the silver ringlet nagging at you to be moved, only you were too exhausted to do anything. The ghost of a touch seemed to run across your cheek, the movement slow and cautious as you felt the hair across your cheek tuck back behind your ear.

As if the phantom hand was not satiated with one singular touch, you felt the same slow and cautious movements begin to repeat, the sensation lulling you into a deeper sleep whilst your mind wandered.

“Hmmm” a satisfied hum left your lips as you cuddled in closer to your pillows, the touch seemed to stall for a moment – which naturally left you wanting. Moving without much thought, you chased the comforting caresses, a quiet chuckle filling the air before the movements began again. You were too caught up in whatever dreams danced behind your eyelids to give any care to where the mysterious caresses came from, nor did you want to know. It was probably the monster under your bed.

Eventually you fell into a numb and mindless deep sleep, the world around you becoming nothing more than an afterthought as you rolled in your sheets trying to find some form of comfort once again.

When none came, your eyes were slow to open, a throbbing taking over your leg as you peered up at the ceiling and the warm rising sun just beyond your window.

“Uugh” you groan, long black nails clutching at the white sheets as you moved to sit up. A frown crossed your features and you looked around the room. Staring over at the clock, the time proudly flashing at 9:00AM. Glancing about the room, you notice something off.

“That’s not where I left you…?” You question, staring wide eyed at the ebony and rich red armchair that was once tucked away in the corner of your room – it now sitting prominently by your bedside. Perhaps Charlie or Vaggie had stopped by to make sure you were okay?

Mind racing, you put two and two together.

_The kitchen._

_The knocking._

_Alastor._

_The plate._

“DAMNIT!” Yelling in frustration, you rip the blankets from your body staring down at the pulsating foot which had betrayed you as you stepped onto the shards of the ceramic.

It was all that assholes fault, what a fucking joke!

Never had you been so careless … although he had patched you back up – regardless of whether it was his fault that you were injured in the first place. The thoughts of food sent your stomach into a riot, the loud grumbles echoing around the room as you realised you had not eaten since the morning before.

Hobbling up to your feet, you stood and realised that you were still dressed in yesterday’s attire, notably missing the tight fitted corset that now lay folded neatly on your vanity, offhandedly noticing the clean bandage roll that sits beside your hairbrush. Staring at yourself in the mirror, your cerulean eyes took in your dishevelled appearance.

Your pale grey-pink skin seemed lighter than unusual – most likely from loosing a kiddie pool equivalent of blood and general malnutrition – with dark circles framing the area underneath your still vibrant eyes. Your clothes were creased and crumpled, and you were pretty sure there was a bloodstain nestled in the fabric that sat across your arm.

“I look fuckin’ horrible,” you muster, running a black nailed hand down your face as you turn from the vanity and heading into the bathroom. Exhaustion seeped into every crevice of your being, your foot aching with every shuffled step as you closed the door behind you.

“AH!” The hiss escapes you lips un-permitted, teeth ground close together as you unwrapped the thick bandages around your foot. Your stomach drops as you look down at the heel of your pale skinned foot, the sickening feeling coursing through your innards when your eyes are immediately drawn to the red and incredibly angry gashes along your heel and instep.

“H O - L Y shit” you muse, the plate had really done a number on you, the gashes well on their way to healing but the very idea of bathing seemed like a painful endeavour.

At least you weren’t bleeding excessively anymore… that had to be good… right?

Staring at the shower, you sigh, opting for a bath. Arms filled with your shampoo, conditioner and sweet-smelling soaps, the pearly white ceramic slowly filled with water. As you watched the water cascade into the basin from the waterfall faucet, you couldn’t help but smile as you squirted a small amount of soap into the tub, luxurious bubbles filled the basin as rich vanilla and botanical gardens filled the air.

Making quick work of finding the zip on your pencil skirt and fast fingers pulling the buttons of your blouse free, your foot stepped into the lukewarm bath, careful not to let your injured limb anywhere near the soapy surface of the water.

“Oh god, that’s good” your voice lost in the bubbles as you dipped below the swirling green surface, leaning back and letting your mind wander as your tail swished on the outside of the tub.

A quiet hum danced across your lips, your soul filled with joy as something that had once came so naturally in life slipped from the purest place within you. The sweet bell-like sound of your voice echoes around the tiled bathroom walls, and you cannot help but reminisce about how you truly fucked up in life.

“ _Ahhhhhhh, ah. Ahhhhhhh, ah_ ” 

You had thrown away what little pleasures you had in life to sell your body, begging, borrowing and stealing the moment you walked through the doors of DeBrincat’s establishment. He had crushed your mind, body and soul into his perfect little cookie-cutter and churned out something that was nothing more than a husk of your previous self … leaving no room for any individual personality.

As the hum turned to a slow melody, you sigh. You had loved singing, your parents – bless their darling Christian souls – had placed you in the parish choir every Sunday. Everyone, and you did mean everyone, commented on how divine a gift your voice had been,

‘A child prodigy’ they had called you.

Singing was simply something you had foregone to the back burner as your eyes grew green with greed for whatever meagre scraps you could attain rather than use your thankless talent.

Eyes closing and listening to the steady sound of your breathing, the gentle sounds of the water lapping at your skin as the bubbles fizzled away … _words began to fill the air_.

“ _I was listening to the ocean – I saw a face in the sand_ ”

You sung so softly, you barely register the words falling from your lips.

“ _But when I picked it up – then it vanished away from my hands, down_ ”

Scowling at the ceiling, the melody poured from your damned soul.

“ _I had a dream I was seven – climbing my way in a tree_ ”

Your tail flickered, swaying back and forth as your eyes prickled with tears.

“ _I saw a piece of heaven – waiting impatient for me, down_ ”

A sigh echoed in your voice, you stared at the bubbles that slowly dissipated on the waters surface – parting like the Red Sea to reveal that chalky-pink skin you were growing slightly more accustomed to.

“ _And I was running far away – would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows”_

Grabbing for the bottle, you eased the soapy bubbles into your hair and ears, carefully massaging the dirt from the roots. Casting a glance down at your tail, you pulled it into the water and began to knead the fur until it became that familiar shade of greyish-white and the black fur that tipped the tail was no longer matted with dried blood.

_“And I was dancing in the rain – I felt alive and I can’t complain”_

Ducking below the waters, your ears fill until a serene deafness clouds your mind, nothing more than the _distant echoes of footsteps_ and muffled aggression that carried throughout the hotel’s bones. Resurfacing, your grab for the second bottle and comb it through your hair, a contempt moan leaving your lips as you continue the melody once again.

_“But now take me home – take me home where I belong – I can’t take it anymore~”_

One final rinse and you were done.

Stepping from the bath and careful of the slowly healing gashes on your foot, you wrap in the fresh towel that lay folded neatly over the brass rack. Tucking it in, you made quick work of towel drying the tangle of hair atop your head, knowing full well that it will bounce back into shape as you move about the room. 

As you make your way out into the comfort of your room, your eyes are drawn to the door which hangs open just a tad. Frowning and grabbing for the door handle, you clutch the towel between your fingers and stare out into the hallway – no signs of life to the left or right.

“Strange …” you whisper, making sure to close the door behind you and locking it from the inside.

Turning with a frown, you head to the old doors that hide your awfully bare wardrobe, picking out a comfortable pair of shorts from the shelfing and grabbing for the loose-fitting jumper you had picked up from the small shopping strip you had visited a few days prior.

Once you started singing, you often could not stop, continuing as you spun on your toes and peered down at the small drawers inside the walk-in-robe.

“ _I was painting a picture – the picture was a painting of you_ ”

You nodded to yourself as you picked a cute matching set of black underwear, rolling your eyes at the scratchy lace of the bra that was surely going to provide some mild discomfort during the day.

“ _And for a moment I thought you were here – but then again it wasn’t true, down_ ”

Humming to yourself, you head back into the bathroom, caring not if the door swings slightly ajar as you pulled the dark denim over the lace which covered your body, the loose-fitting jumper warms the very cockles of your heart as you slink back into the bedroom and spy the brush which lay askew on the vanity. Putting the clean socks beside the clean bandages, your warm fingers wrapped around the brush.

“ _And all this time I have been lying – Oh lying in secret to myself_ ”

Raking it through your hair, careful of your ears, you smile at the worn reflection.

“ _I’ve been putting sorrow on the farest place - on my shelf – La-di-da_ ”

Humming the rest of the tune, you snagged the socks and bandages off the vanity counter before resuming your happy little melody - ceasing to take notice of the shadow that danced along your walls as you closed the bedroom door behind you in search of food.


	16. Canary Call (ALASTOR POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love writing from a different perspective sometimes, it's always good to get someone else's take on events ... even if that person is a serial killer with a strange fascination with you .... 
> 
> OH! Before I forget the song being sung here is;   
> Runaway - AURORA
> 
> I love the melodies and have been playing a bunch of songs and trying to place them into the fic as I go ~ Viv's playlist has some great songs that keep ya hella motivated and I added some personal faves that really set the mood for this fic :)

_The pleasant hum danced across his lips as he parted ways with what little entertainment he could gleam from Husker before he simply stopped responding to his taunts and stared down the long neck of the stiff drink._

_Alastor had stopped by the kitchens and watched the petulant little cretins of the hotel talked animatedly about their days and the preparation for the hotels endless ‘positive rehabilitation programs’ or what that belle of a princess was un-originally calling PRP for short. His mind pondered this little doomed project of Lucifer's daughter, his brow quirking as he passed the platinum haired demon as she scolded the spider demon for his insolent behaviour._

_“Angel, you are supposed to be going clean! You promised you would try!”_

_“What can I say, toots? I gotta rep – I’m a_ bad _boy” he purrs._

_Nodding his head to the tune in his mind, Alastor let a low chuckle escape his lips as he listened closely – taking great enjoyment from the spider’s scalding reprimand for stashing that nasty nose powder under his pillow._

_The little moth ground her teeth as she spat vulgar insults at the pink suited demon, the ever effeminate wanna-be-dish playing down the lecture with a wave of his hands and the subtle raking of fingers through his hair._

_“You put so much of a toe out of line and you’re out! You’re making us look like a fucking joke!”_

_“Calm down Vaggie, we need to just take a step back and regroup. How are the campaigns going?”_

_“Going? GOING? They’re in the trash! This little COCK-roach has thrown all our hard work out the damned window. And you aren’t even sorry, are you?!” she practically boiled over as her skin grew red-as-a-beet, staring down at the arachnid with blazing eyes._

_Alastor could not help but smile, for he knew almost every resident and workers dirty little secrets ..._

_All save_ one _._

_Alastor would never admit it, but the little fox had caught his eye. In a hell-scape filled with bleeding reds, blatant blacks and decaying golds, she stood out like a gator in a farmhouse. Perhaps it was the delightful thrill of the chase, but the previous night had played across his mind whilst he had stood by – watching in fascination as her features relaxed as she slept._

_She was a truly_ entertaining _being!_

 _He wandered aimlessly, the pleasant humming stopping dead in its tracks just as his ears perked up, hearing the sweet bell tones that seemed to echo down the softly lit hallway. Like a sailor drawn to the siren’s song, he_ hunted _the canary call._

“And I was running far away – would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows”

_He couldn’t lie, the sweet melody ran rampant in his mind as he searched for the source of the sound, the Cheshire grin spreading across his face as he climbed the staircase and arrived at the third floor of the hotel. He had spent the majority of the night in the very room he stood before now._

_“And I was dancing in the rain – I felt alive and I can’t complain”_

_His ears pick up as he wanders closer, pleasantly surprised with his little employee’s melody. Eyes shifting to the handle of the door, the low buzzing of static fills the air whilst Alastor concentrates - his grin widening as he became little more than a shadow._

_A satisfied smirk graced his lips as the mechanisms clicked in his favour, the door opening to accommodate his every whim._

_Slinking inside and sticking to the drawn shadows in the room, he was once again underwhelmed with just how plain the room felt – the guest rooms in his estate were far more exquisite than what this ‘Hazbin Hotel’ had to offer._

_The sloshing of water catches his attention, and he peers with curious eyes at the locked door of the bathroom._

“But now take me home – take me home where I belong – I can’t take it anymore~”

_The melancholy melody jarred his hearing, the sound so unadulterated and out of his usual tolerance for music that he cannot help but stand enraptured by the harmony._

_With a creak, the entrance to the tiled bathroom opens and he finds himself sinking deeper into the shadows as the little fox spies the open door he had left in his wake._

_Scolding himself for being a careless fool, he watches with a satisfied grin as she grasps the white towel close, poking her head out the door and muttering to herself, that black tipped tail flickering nervously as she peered outside the perceived ‘safety’ of her room._

_Oh, how wrong_ his _little fox was._

_The same frightened aura surrounds her as the night before in the kitchen when he had begun his usual tricks to alleviate the boredom he was so all-consumed by._

_“Strange…” locking the door and turning with a delicate frown, she turns to the closet and steps inside, the bars of the song seeming to dance about the air as they became muffled behind the closed door._

“I was painting a picture – the picture was a painting of you”

_Emerging a few heartbeats later, her hands laden with those modern clothes he loathed._

_Oh! How he missed the good old days._

For nobody appreciated true style in this dreary Hell-scape.

“And for a moment I thought you were here – but then again it wasn’t true, down”

 _Alastor watched as she stepped inside the bathroom, the door swinging tantalisingly open as she stands before the worn reflection, his eyes averting a moment too late as the towel drops. The swirling in his gut reminds him of a time where he would have appreciated such_ curves _._

 _Well… before discovering a far more_ exciting _means of eliciting satisfaction._

_Lost in his thoughts and the rising hunger within him, he barely registers her moving somewhat closer to where he stood hidden, her fingers tugging at the ornate brush atop the vanity._

“And all this time I have been lying – Oh lying in secret to myself”

_She smiles, and his eyes narrow as the smile upon his lips widens._

“I’ve been putting sorrow on the farest place on my shelf – La-di-da”

_Perhaps his little fox held more secrets than he had originally anticipated, her lips closing as the tune echoed around the room._

_Satisfied, she stands and grabs for the bandages he had left on the vanity in the early hours of the morning before moving away to the rooms exit, assuring herself that she had indeed locked the door before turning tail – her slow footsteps echoing down the hallway as he stepped from the shadows and adjusted the buttons on his jacket._

_It appeared the little fox had an affinity for song, a strangely peculiar talent for someone that seemed so intently determined to put up a brave front._

_“How peculiar, indeed” he hummed, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as he stood in the hallway._

_Alastor was almost entirely positive that he was the only one who knew of this little talent of hers, humming to himself as his eyes grew dark. With a swift click of his fingers, he set out into the deep recesses of Pentagram City, eyes fevered in search of fresh meat._

_A wicked smile stretched upon his lips as he cornered the despicably spineless sinner that cowered in fear before him, the razor-sharp yellow fangs sinking into its red flesh as its miserable screams became drowned out by the bustling city that carried on with its business – caring not for the unfortunate mongrel that fell victim to the_ Radio Demon _._

_Cackling at the river of ruby that seeped across the worn concrete, eyes flashing as he picked the bones clean._

_He had found his new source of entertainment._

And the fun was just beginning…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all from me my lovelies ~ 
> 
> Have a fantabulous weekend and I will see you back here on Monday for another double upload :3   
> Ciao!~


	17. An Apple A Day –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a smol translation in here - keep an eye out for it
> 
> Translation:   
> “Juro por los dioses que te acabaré!” = I swear to the gods I will end you!

Singing quietly under your breath, you follow the boisterous laughter that fills the air – smiling to yourself as you step into the kitchen and catch the tail end of the conversation that led you to finding Angel cozied up to Husk – the latter completely ready to smash the bottle and stab it into the arachnids neck – but you are pretty positive he hasn’t got murder in him.

Charlie scolds something making noise in the pantry, her brows pulled tight as she bends down to check something in the oven. Vaggie sits on the counter, rolling her eye as Angel animatedly harassed the poor cat. You stood in the doorway, daring not to intrude as Angel Dust sat wheezing,

“Nah, my girl bud totally did me a solid! Guess what I got?!”

Husk growled, a low smirk tugging at his lips as he pulls away from the spider for the umpteenth time.

“Heh, an STD?!” the cat loses it, hand smacking the counter as his eyes prickle with tears. You hold a hand up to your lips to muffle the laughter - Vaggie practically cackling as she holds her ribs – Charlie shoots an unapologetic smile to Angel as his discoloured eyes narrow.

Angel stares, brows tugging as he runs his hands through his hair with one set of hands, the other poking Husk’s back.

“Hey! I may be a slut …” he begins, looking somewhat proud of himself.

“… but …?” Charlie shakes her head.

You stare on as Angel cracks a smile and leans over the counter to pluck a banana-like fruit from the fruit bowl and peels it, twisting his wrist as he takes a bite and chews thoughtfully.

“Nah, that’s all I got really”

The room erupts in a manic laughing fit, your eyes prickling with tears as you clutch your side and shuffle into the kitchen – stealing a stool at the counter - careful of the tender spot on your heel as you sit at the end of the bench. Leaning down, you start to wrap your foot as Vaggie nods over to where you sit, a soft smile pulling at her lips when her gaze returns to Charlie.

“Oh ( _Y/N_ )! You’re awake” Charlie smiled, bending down once more to check on the oven.

The whole scene was oddly … domestic.

It confused you when you noted that the _floors were spotless_ , with not one speck of red anywhere.

“Ha ha,” you wipe a tear from your eye, “what did you get Angel?”

“THANKYOU~!” his head falls back, like the dramatic minx he is, he lets out a loud groan before looking back over at Husk with a seductive gleam in his eye, “Someone who cares!”

Turning to the pantry, he W H I S T L E S with his long-gloved fingers between his jagged teeth, and what comes next sends you into a fit of stitches.

A fucking PIG happily waddles out of the pantry, a half-eaten carrot hanging from its jaws. You physically cannot handle how adorable the little piglet is – barely recognising that there was just a PIG IN HELL, the logistics of any animal being down here only spurring on your fit.

Your ears grow deaf with the sounds of combined howls of laughter, the moment of respite in this Hell hole something far and few between.

Unsurprisingly, the little pink piglet oinks up at Angel as he leans down to pick him up, you can barely see through the tears but notice the small skull like patch of darker pink on its hind.

“What the … _*cough*_ fuck is … _*cough*_ that?” wiping the tears from you eye with a giggle. Everyone begins to chime down, just for a moment.

“He isn’t a ‘thing’! _HIS NAME_ … is Fat Nuggets” Angel defends, offence written all over his features as everyone loses it once more, your stomach aching from how hard you laugh.

Shoulders shaking, you gasp for air.

“ _Heh!”_ You wheeze, “He’s a – He’s – _He’s a little nugg_!”

The kitchen erupts in another round of laughter, only dying out as the alarm for the oven goes off. Wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her suit, Charlie grabs the cutest little crab claw oven mitts and makes busy work of pulling whatever devilishly delectable desert she had made out of the hot box and places it on the stovetop to cool.

The sickly-sweet smell of stewed apples and cinnamon fills the air and it smells positively _divine._

Angel seems to agree, especially when he skips over to the hot dish and begins to inspect it with wide eyes. A cheeky smile tugs at his lips as he pokes a hole into the crust with a satisfying crumble, pausing only when he spies Charlie standing with her arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor.

“What?” the innocence in his voice almost tipped you over the edge again, grinning as he pulls his finger from the pie and bats his eyelashes with a sweet smile.

“That can be your piece” she sighs, grabbing for a serving spatula whilst Vaggie hops off the counter and grabs some plates.

“So how goes all the prep for the Hotel?” you ask, moving to the table along with the others as Charlie trails behind twisting the fork uncomfortably.

“Not… great. We just need that one little push, to prove to everyone that sinners can be rehabilitated, you know?”

Nodding along and stabbing into the apple pie, you take a thoughtful bite.

“Isn’t Angel supposed to be your little pet project?” asking through a small mouthful of the pie, you stare across the table as his head shoots up, brows pulled in tight as he scowls at you.

“I’m right here ya know!”

“Oh, I know. I was making a point of how you _aren’t_ trying very hard to _repent for your sins_ ”

“ _Bitch_ , you have no idea what I’m in for” he scoffs, offhandedly waving you away as he stabs into the pie and feeds some of it to the pig. You scrunch your nose up as he flips you off.

“ _I can only imagine_ ,” you mutter under your breath, “Have you tried the locals? Flyers?”

“That interview was our ONLY chance at making any kind of difference down here! And that jackass ruined it!” Vaggie seethes. Arms crossed, she stares daggers at the arachnid who simply chooses to ignore her whilst he coos at the piglet.

You sit in silence as Vaggie insults him once more, and he retaliates back with hard hitting, harsh slurs that send her into a fit of rage – the bow behind her hair tapering to pointed horns and hair flaring out as she pulled thick bunches from her scalp.

Sliding down the chair, you send a pleading glance to Charlie who simply smiles and rolls her eyes.

She is _far_ too used to these _little_ quarrels occurring.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, puta” -

“Go stuff your enchilada, bitch” -

“Again, can’t tell if you’re trying to be _racist_ or _sexist_ ” -

“You should be _thanking me_! I got your little hotel all over the 6 o’clock news” -

“ _Juro por los dioses que te acabaré!_ For being a fucking joke! We are a laughing stock everywhere!”

The spat drones on, and you find your appetite lost after watching the two spit insults at each other. Husk simply stands and pads off to the bar to restock his drink, Charlie stares at the scratches on the table with an aimless gaze – hugging herself tight.

“My, my, my. What have we here?” The voice sends a shiver down your spine as you visibly recoil from the general direction of the door – which was mistakeably behind you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This STD joke has been floating around my head for ages, and I'm so glad I finally got to use it :D


	18. - Does Not Keep Alastor Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your manners are starting to cause you some grief ~ and Alastor is still reveling in your discomfort.

The fight stops in an instant, their jaws clicking shut as the tension amps up in the room.

The breath you sucked in seemed to freeze as you dead-eyed the plate before you in the hopes that it will offer some form of solace.

“Ha, ha! No, this _simply_ wont do!” he chuckles, sweeping into the room and grabbing for the back of the chair that you just so happened to be sitting at, long claws scratching across the fabric atop your shoulders before settling on the lavish wood.

“Well … what do you propose?” Charlie sighed, hands sliding up her shoulders as if to comfort herself.

You sat, paralysed.

That _damned Radio Demon._

Always so sinisterly chipper. 

“Perhaps we could throw a little … Soiree?” his tone sends your nerves into a fit, their frayed ends screaming _DANGER! DANGER!_

“Alastor, you have already done so much…” she tries, only to be waved off by his gloved hand hovering in the air. The static crackles as your ears tremble, catching each and every scratch of his incessantly long claws across the wooden chair.

“Nonsense! As the _manager and benefactor_ of this fine establishment its my duty to help in any way I can!”

“I can’t take advantage -” she smiled sweetly, your eyes flickering back and forth as she stands from the table and moved to the kitchen once more, you silently beg her _not to leave you alone_ with this pompous prick.

“Now, now! I insist! Pulling _strings_ is what I do, _my dear_ ” he purrs, and you shuffle in the seat, an uncomfortable heat settling at your neck as if a branding iron were right behind you.

She smiled in agreeance with an excited squeal, Vaggie shooting you a look of equal scepticism at you as fear seeps into your spine and crawls unwelcome to your shoulders.

_If you were the Queen on the chessboard, this bastard was certainly turning up the heat._

“OH! We can have it in the ballroom!”

“Aha, ha, ha, ha, ha! What a _splendid_ idea, Princess! Why, we should discuss the finer details over _dinner_!”

“This is SO EXCITING!” Charlie gushes, and amongst the fear that slowly consumed you whole, you couldn’t help but admire her blatant ability to see only the best in people … or rather … demons.

Vaggie pales at the idea of Charlie and the Radio Demon being in the same room for an extended period of time, you shoot her a reassuring glance, knowing full well that Charlie’s main priority is this hotel and Vaggie herself.

As _evil_ as Alastor was, you were _positive_ he couldn’t drive a wedge between the two demons.

She offers him a slice of apple pie, to which he passes up to sit in the dining chair directly in front of you, your azure eyes staring down at the burning crimson as Charlie goes off on a tangent about decorations and guest lists, what to wear and how to style her hair – even going so far as to quietly question whether or not her parents would be willing to make and appearance.

As she dances around the kitchen, talking with fevered hand movements and an absurd amount of bouncing on her toes, you turn to the demon before you.

The smile is unnerving, and _you’re sure_ he can feel just how uncomfortable the static that settles on your skin makes you feel. In an effort to divert some of the laser focused attention from the Radio Demon, you clear your throat.

“Um, thankyou …”

“I beg your pardon?” the shit-eating grin that splits his face is absolutely abhorrent, and you sigh, shuffling uncomfortably in your seat.

“I said ‘thankyou’” you huff, arms crossed by your chest protectively.

“Whatever _for_ , my dear?” Alastor’s brow quirks, and you wished you had never thanked him – of course he was going to draw this little conversation out for as long as possible. 

“The whole … foot … plate … patch-job thing?” exasperated with the idea of being carried back to your bed, you feel your cheeks begin to flame.

“ _OH_!” he clicks his fingers, setting his chin down on his palm as his head rests leisurely to the side, “that… why, you are _more than welcome_ , darling. We can’t have injured employees stumbling around the hotel, now can we? _Just imagine_ what it would do for our very _fragile reputation_ ” he smirked, and you felt your blood boil.

Breaking a plate because you were scared was hardly a cause for a riot, and there were no actual guests in the hotel aside from Angel and perhaps yourself… although you fit more into the staff branch now.

“Just … whatever” you sigh in defeat, moving to stand from your seat. Your eyes shoot wide as he also stands, a mirror image of your actions. You scrunch your nose and narrow your eyes, the smallest of ideas flittering from your train of thought as you get a closer look at the harrowing demon before you.

“Hey, Alastor…?” your voice goes up an octave, what you hope looks like a passive expression upon your features.

“Yes, my dear?” Alastor smiles with glee, owlishly blinking.

“You have, errm, you have something in your teeth” you mimic where the small chunk of red is nestled, long nail pointed as he simply quirks his brow and tilts his head in – the most – unsettling way.

“ _Why thank-you_ , my dear” your cheeks practically simmer as the mocking tone fills your ears, and you cant help but stand there like an idiot.

Shaking his head as if it were the silliest notion in the world, he raised his gloved claw to his teeth, picking at the spot you had just indicated to. As his eyes closed for a moment you took your leave – bolting for the door behind you and racing up the stairs – never pausing to look back as your foot screams in agony.

Slamming the heavy wood shut and twisting the lock, you stare wide eyed at the door as if you expected Santa Claus to come kicking it down.

Tearing a fistful of hair, you slow you heavy panting and throw yourself onto the bed, face down in the pillows as you let out a long scream.

“What the fuck?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, my - Christmas, New Years, Life - it has finally caught up with me. There won't be an upload on Wednesday because I'll be trying to play a game of catch-up with this fic and get a few more chapters down. I have a good idea of where we are going, and how we will end up there ~ I will see you wonderful humans on Friday for another double upload. 
> 
> Have a wonderful New Year - I'll see y'all in 2020!! 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


	19. Red, White And Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its officially 2020, and uploads are probably going to change a little this month as I’ve got a holiday coming up in a few weeks, I’ll try my best to get things out on time - plz don’t be mad if I miss a double upload or upload a day late. 
> 
> In other news, enjoy Alastor being a butt because ... well because he can ;)

You sat with earphones blaring music in an attempt to block out the squeals of the piglet that sat sprawled in Angels lap, turning one hell of a blind eye as he picked it up and blew raspberries on its tummy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the work you hands set out before you.

Your nails were covered in sticky sealant, huffing in frustration as you set down the heavy brass wax seal for the _umpteenth time that week_ – each and every one of the envelopes filled with the invitation for the Hazbin Hotel’s grand-reopening event. Alastor and Charlie had sat down a few weeks before, working out all the kinks and the details of the damned party that he planned on throwing, going into tireless detail about all the guests he would invite and just how to arrange the ballroom.

And heaven-help-you, he had pulled _you_ along for the ride.

Hence, the job you had been saddled with for the past two days. Naturally, he had left you with an infinite list filled to the brim of the ancient looking scroll with names and addresses. It was Hell, and you knew that half of these would be thrown away or discarded, but damn it _a job was a job_ and you were going to do it … no matter how many times you had _burnt yourself on the infuriatingly hot wax_.

According to Charlie, the event would go ahead on the last day of April, the idea of surviving this cesspool for another 2 months became somewhat comforting. As someone who had whole-heartedly been convinced that they were in some kind of waking nightmare, you were still filled with that anxious feeling of discomfort every time you woke up.

For you had called Hell a home for almost a month, and the very idea still sent a chill down your spine.

A month.

You had been a fox demon – complete with a tail and ears – for a month.

The notion was mind boggling.

Placing the envelope you had just sealed onto the twelfth stack of the day, you sighed.

Angel cackled as the little piglet squealed and rolled about the couch in the lobby, its dumb expression tugging a small smile at the corners of your lips as you stared at the television screen that raced between channels as the silly little pig played with the remote.

You nodded your head along to the song, your eyes flickered up as the towering figure of your boss sauntered into the room, that all-too-familiar smile shining in the fading light of the afternoon as the echoing tapping of his toes danced off the lobby walls. 

His coattails brushed past the table you had set up beside the check-in counter, your heart stopping as the tall stack of envelopes began to topple – your movements too slow to have any hope of catching the invitations that had been painstakingly organised by the ranking they had been on the worn scroll that damned demon had given you.

Expression slack, you stare as they scatter across the floor, eyes wide in disbelief as your shoulders slump.

Burning rage filled you as your eyes dart up to the bastard whose head swivelled as if on a pike, that ever-endearing smile present as he chuckled darkly.

“What the fuck Alastor?! You so did that on purpose!” You practically bubble and boil, nails digging into your palm with a painful stinging as you rip the earphones out from your ears.

How petty could this jerk be?!

“Why, did I do that?” He jokes through narrowed eyes.

“NO SHIT SHERLOCK!”

“Oh! How I loved those fictitious dribbles – it _always astounded_ me how the brilliant mind of the detective _far outweighed_ those _in reality_ ”

Staring blankly, you blink with owlishly wide eyes.

“That has … that _literally has NOTHING do with_ …” sighing in defeat, you get down on your knees and begin to pick up the endless piles of scattered envelopes, not even caring as his footsteps neared. Taking a steadying breath, you lifted your head ready to implode only to be met face to face with the endless expanse of crimson that so often terrified you.

Swallowing your response, you feel your heartbeat quicken in your ears, tail sweeping to floor with jerking movements.

With a roll of his eyes and an ever present smile, you pull back to put as much space between his and your nose as possible.

“Now, I do feel _just awful_ about this whole fiasco – Do tell me how I may be of assistance, _sweetheart_ ”

“You really wanna help?” your breath catches on your lips as you scoop the letters into your arms and move to stand.

He nods sardonically.

“Then _fuck off_ , and let me do my job in peace” you hiss, tail fluffing up as you drop all of the envelopes on the desk and climb behind the counter to retrieve a long discarded box to put the damned scraps of paper into, seething on the inside as you keep a watchful eye on the Radio Demon.

“ _RAWR!_ ” Angel cackled, caring little as the Radio Demons head spun to face the arachnid, “She sure told you, _smiles!_ ”

Dumping all the envelopes into the box, you turn and go to drop them off to the managers office – caring not that the tall and menacing presence seemed to trail behind you like nothing more than an incredibly persistent shadow.

Opening the door and storming inside, you unceremoniously drop the box on his desk and shake your head, brushing past Alastor all the same as if he wasn’t an incredibly persistent pain and existential thorn in your side.

As he goes to speak, you thrust the earphones back into place, blaring the music louder as you set down and begin the final set of golden envelopes, crossing off whichever names were left before the clock graciously signalled to you that it was time to knock off. Grabbing for the final stack, the scroll and your new phone, you quickly crossed the lobby and pushed the managers door aide.

Taking a bracing breath – you found the Radio Demon poised at his desk, carefully inspecting your neat handwriting through the stained red of his monocle. That smile ever present as his long talons tap impatiently on the dark wood. 

Throwing the final envelopes down, he barely raises his eyes as you brush past and begin to walk out the door.

“ _Darling_ , could you come and look at this?” His sickly sweet crackling voice stops you head in your tracks, forcing you to remove the earphones once again, tucking the phone into your back pocket.

“Alastor, I’m done for the day” you cant help the whine in your voice as you roll your eyes and turn back towards the red clad demon.

He bats his eyes, almost reining innocence, as he rests his chin on his palm.

“Cross my non-existent heart it will only take but a moment, my dear”

With a soft grunt, you don’t care if you sound like an insolent teenager, you stalk over and cross your arms by your chest.

“ _What is it?_ ”

He beckons you closer with his long gloved claw, dissatisfied until you are practically bent down beside him and staring with annoyed eyes at the long scroll on his desk and countless envelopes that sit scattered about the desk in organised chaos.

“What _exactly_ am I looking at, _Alastor_?”

“It _appears you_ left a few patrons off the list, dear”

Scoffing, you twist your head to the side – only to be met face to face with his shit eating grin. Your breath becomes caught in your throat as you attempt to move away but find yourself frozen.

In the month you had been here, you were slowly getting used to his bullshit, but still hated being incredibly close to him. The static in the air attached itself to whatever exposed flesh your usual business attire you wore for work – growing ever uncomfortable as those searching blood-red eyes pulled at the corners in amusement.

“I – I cant have! I crossed e-every single name off that list” you stutter, that sinking feeling twisting in your gut as he tuts as you for your apparent mistake.

“No, no, this simply wont do!” That over the top tone of his crackles in your ears, forcing them to drop to your head in an attempt to block the noise. His fingers raise to the monocle and adjust it as he grabs for your chin and drags it back down to look at the scroll in his hand, your eyes wide as a hundred more names appear in his fine calligraphy at the bottom of the list.

Raking in a shaky breath through your teeth – you tear your chin from his grasp and take a step back.

“You … YOU! Those names were NOT there!”

“Oh! Were they not? They appear to be on the list I provided you” his mock innocence drives you up the wall, grinding your teeth your fingers twist into fists by your sides as your cheeks redden and your blood boils.

“Fine!” You spit, “I’ll do them tomorrow” you grab for the scroll – hand too slow to escape his ever present grip as his fingers clutch the pale skin of your wrist.

“ _Do try_ , my dear. For these must be completed by the morrow if we want to see any real turnout at this little … ‘party’ the princess is throwing”

You pale, of course he would play off his idea as Charlie’s. If it went south it was sure to reflect poorly on the owner of the hotel.

Growling, you turn on your heel and storm from the office and climb the staircase back up to your room. Muttering under your breath, you stew in your thoughts as you push the heavy wooden door open and lock it behind you.

“GOD HE IS INSUFFERABLE!” You groan, throwing the scroll down on the bed in a fit of rage, you grab for the bathroom’s door handle and shut the door behind you, sliding down the door and letting the silence envelope you.

You sit, content with the sounds of your beating heart as you stare up at the white ceiling. It was only when the ever nearing chill of the hellish winter sifted through the crack under the doorframe that you finally stood and pulled your phone from your pocket.

Scrolling until you found the ‘Hell-Tunez’ application, you select some random song and step into the shower, washing away the days worth of grief as the lukewarm water slowly relaxes you. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, the lack of scalding water wasn’t as bad as it used to be, becoming warm enough for you to not go and complain to Charlie about the strange plumbing situation you found in the room.

Towel drying and grabbing the phone as a simple song plays, you shiver as you flick the small lamp atop your bedside table on – eyes daring to scan the room as another cold chill sweeps the room.

Your eyes fall on the culprit. The damned door to your balcony swung open, the low whine of the hinges sending your ears on high alert as you race to close the glass doors and cut off the chilly air that seeps into the room.

“I swear these things have a mind of their own” you sigh, and secure the latch, “I need another lock or something…” turning, you stop – frozen as the air outside was sure to become – spying the red and gold glint on the pillow you had just been beside.

“Okay that shit was not there before” you were getting reaaaaaaal tired of being fucked with. And you had your sneaking suspicions of who it was that was blatantly disrespecting your personal space.

Slowly making your way to the beside, your fingers trail along the white bedspread and as you peered at the strange sight before you.

On your pillow lay a golden envelope, a vibrant red rose delicately placed atop the metallic surface. Reaching for the stem, you hold it up in the low light and examine the petals. Dew drops seemed to be scattered around the delicate flower, as you turned it slowly you hiss and drop the flower.

Staring down at the bead of blood that swells on your fingertip, you let out a low curse.

Pushing the finger to your lips, you quickly swipe the blood away with your tongue and reach for the golden envelope. The familiar golden envelope sits snugly in your hands, the extravagant calligraphy sending yet another chill down your spine.

‘( _Y/N_ ),

_Room 312, Hazbin Hotel,_

_Pentagram City, Hell_ ’

You knew exactly what lay inside, the exact same words that you had sealed shut over the past two days. Reading it aloud, you couldn’t help the wide eyed stare as your eyes danced across the ornate paper.

“My Dearest ( _Y/N_ ), You are cordially invited to the grand re-opening of the Hazbin Hotel! We hope that you will join us for an utterly ostentatious night of dancing and drinking on April 30th at 4pm sharp. We do hope to see you there. Regards, Alastor” your eyes dart down with a deep frown at the off script signature at the bottom, knowing full well it was absent from every other invitation you had sealed.

‘ _Dress to impress my dear_ ’

Sighing, you throw the envelope and ornate letter to the bedside table and reach down to grab the rose from the floor. Slowly inhaling its sweet scent, you cant help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth before settling into bed and falling into the sweetest dream you have had in the longest of times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are staring to get a little more bold when it comes to dealing with Alastor’s bullshit


	20. Tag, You’re It

“Come on, I know the perfect little place!” Charlie excitedly bounced up and down on your bed, the very idea of going anywhere absolutely abhorrent to you at such an odd hour of the morning. Glaring at the clock on your bedside table, you internally groaned. It was only 5am.

“As much as I would _love to go dress shopping,_ I just can’t. Alastor would never agre-”

She pulls a face, and you know it all too well, its her ‘I’ve won this war’ face.

“Oh, I’ve already asked him to give you the day off” examining her nails, she winks at you, and you cannot help but feel a little taken aback. Alastor was the literal boss-from-hell and made everything you did ten times harder than it needed to be, all for his own selfish entertainment.

“Surely … he didn’t – he wouldn’t—” you sit up, and stare at her dumbly.

“He totally gave you the day off” she narrows her eyes with the sweet smile she flashes you. A strange laugh escapes your lips.

“Are you sure I’m not still asleep?”

“Ha ha ha, no you’re awake. No way in _Hell_ would I be dreaming about bargaining with Alastor to give you a day off” falling into a fit of laughter with her on your bed, you cannot help but think just how close you and Charlie were becoming.

She was like the sister you never had, almost always there to pick you up when you felt down, and she always had your back.

 _Someone like her shouldn’t be in hell_ , you idly thought as you kicked the covers off.

A light tapping on your door sent a wave of ice-cold fear down your spine, forcing you to stand up and swallow it down, you stepped towards the door with bated breath before turning the handle.

The sigh of relief as you see Vaggie standing there is beyond heavenly, because anyone other than Alastor is a real treat.

“Vaggie?”

“Heya, ( _Y/N_ ). Charlie still in here?” She attempts a smile, and it looks more like a friendly grimace. You find it somewhat comforting as you usher her inside.

“Morning Vag,” Charlie sings as she climbs from your bed with an every cheerful smile, “How did you go with getting Angel up?”

“Well…” she shifts on her feet and you were sure you’d never seen a mix of discomfort and anger mixed into one expression until this very moment. “I probably wasn’t the best person to go and wake him up”

Fixing her loose overalls, Charlie lifts her head.

“Leave it to me,” she leans in to give Vaggie a sweet kiss on the cheek, the little moth demon blushing lightly as Charlie turns back to you, “( _Y/N_ ), be ready to go in … maybe… an hour?” You give her a curt nod before her and Vaggie leave you to your own devices.

Staring out the glass doors that lead to your balcony, you remember that one news caster saying it was going to be a warmer day in Hell today, so you opt for a loose fitted dress, narrowing your eyes as the tie-up casual corset that also sits on the shelving inside the walk-in-robe.

“Fuck it” you smile, grabbing for it and quickly donning new lacy underwear and a strapless bra, slipping the white cotton over your head and arms, your skilled fingers making quick work of the front of the corset.

Humming in approval, you slip some socks and black suede boots on that end just above your knees – walking with the telltale clicking of heels into the bathroom to make a start on your mess of hair.

In the time you had been here, your hair had indeed grown a few inches longer, the curls stopping a little ways down your back rather than twisting around your shoulders. At this rate you were going to need a haircut in the next few weeks to keep it tamed – although you liked the longer hair as it reminded you of your time alive.

Grabbing for your brush, you quickly sift through the curled tangles of dark purple, grey and white – the very idea of your hair staying the same ombré colouration no matter the length sent you into a strange stupor. Brushing it off, you slap some makeup onto your face – with an upturned brow as you begin to apply your lipstick, you hear another quiet knock at the door.

Had it already been an hour?

Surely not.

Leaving the tube of lipstick discarded, you smile as you open the door.

_Only for it to drop immediately._

“Why hello my dear! I see you are using your day off wisely” the voice grates against your ears as your tail twitches across the floorboards.

He stands, proud as ever in the same sort of attire he wears each and every day, the only difference this morning is the lack of a pinstripe jacket – but rather the addition of a black and red vest that covers his slim torso.

“Good morning, Alastor” you resist the urge to roll your eyes, “it was awfully nice of you to give me the day off”

“Think of it as nothing more than a gesture of good will!” his smile stretched wide as his eyes flash a bright crimson.

“I’m sure” you mutter, “and to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit so early in the morning?”

“I trust you received your invitation?” With a keen eye, he spies the open letter sitting on your bedside table, and you close the door a fraction.

“I didn’t realise I needed one”

“Absolute nonsense! Of course you require one, my dear”

You sigh and look up to him with a sceptical gaze.

“I was under the the impression that everyone was already invited. Did you give Vaggie one? Charlie? Husk?”

His smile drops a fraction, and you know you’ve caught him in his little game.

You shoot him a sly smile, and cross your arms by your chest.

“Careful, Alastor. Someone might think you have actual feelings” you let out a light laugh as you brush past him, his gloved hands gripping his cane tight as he follows suit down the stairs, whatever quick remark he had dying on his lips as you step outside and climb into Charlie’s limousine.

Angel shoots you a questioning look as he lazily rubs his eye.

You simply shrug and stare back at the hotel, heart sinking as you realise what you’ve done and think of the consequences that are sure to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for dress shopping ~ where we try our best to fulfil Alastor’s request to   
> ‘Dress to impress’ 
> 
> I’ll catch ya next week on Monday :) Enjoy sinners


	21. Say Yes To The Dress

Your nose scrunches up as your tail dances playfully, your lips barely containing the laughter from the depths inside you as Vaggie steps out of the change rooms with the most hideous dress you had ever seen on.

“Are ya sure about this place, toots? I wouldn’t be caught alive in somethin’ like that?” Angel chuckles, ducking low as Vaggie’s cheeks boil and she reaches for the closest thing – which happened to be a glass vase with wilted flowers – and hurls it across the room.

“Shut up” she growls, the bow in her hair curling up into adorable little horns as you elbow Angel in the ribs.

“What? I’m just sayin’” he whines, sticking his tongue out as Charlie peers over from the rack she sifted through.

“I like it! I like it! I LIKE IT!” Niffty chants as she excitedly looks at the dress, racing around vaggie and picking at all the loose threads, “But, but, but! What if we – and we did a – OOH and I wanna~”

“Maybe something a little less … round?” She offers, handing over something that looked like a strapless dress with endless ornate details decorating it – vaggie rolled her eye and returned to the change room with mumbled complaints, you ears barely picking up the low Spanish as she drags the change room curtain back across the brass rod harshly.

“Got any ideas what you’re going to wear, Angel?”

His head lolls to the side lazily, hand rolling through the air as he uncrosses and re-crosses his legs.

“You’ll just have ta’ see when the big night rolls round” shooting you a wink, you cant help but smile at the remark. Everyone had come out for the day, and after being locked inside the dress shop for a few hours you were ready to get up and stretch your legs – maybe find some street food that might satisfy the need for breakfast you had skipped over in the rush to get up and ready.

Standing, Angel grumpily mutters about having to come out with a bunch of losers, but somehow you doubt his day was going to consist of anything other than running around with fat Nuggets and sending suggestive winks and kisses over to Husk.

“Where are you going ( _Y/N_ )?” Niffty asks as you move to stand.

“Oh, uh, I was just going to go and find some food” you smile, knowing full well she is going to drag you right back to the task at hand.

“NOPE! NO! We need to find you the perfect dress!” Niffty jumped, hands darting to the closest rack and pulling four dresses down with little to no effort.

You huff under the weight as she throws them into your arms, all complaints dying on your lips as she pushes you heels first into the changing room a little ways away from the group.

Flustered and frustrated, you stare helplessly at your reflection in the mirror.

Whilst you had been alive, you had hated dressing up for any occasion. The mere reminder of wearing all manners of atrocious white frocks to Sunday school sending a sickening shiver up your spine.

Glaring at the first bag, you sigh and hang it up within the surprisingly spacious changing room and take a look at it. A grimace sets into your features as your ears flatten against your head. Your fingers quickly drag across the scratching material of the high collar, the pink gossamer leaving you with a few distasteful words on your lips as young thrust it over onto a ‘no-fucking-thank-you’ hanger.

Your pale fingers reach across and grab for the second dress off the hanger, pulling the gown up to your curvy figure and tilting your head in contemplation for a moment. It was a cut little Jessica rabbit kind of moment, with red sequins that shone in the light after each minute movement. You were sure that the dress would need some form of alteration over your hips, but swallowed the hesitation and pulled it from the dress sleeve.

Removing your clothes and discarding them to a pile in the corner, you step into the dress and squeeze your hips past the tight waistline, slipping your arms through the thin spaghetti straps before glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Red seemed to be a staple in Hell, with black being a close second.

“( _Y/N_ )! Are you almost done in there?” You hear Charlie call, your head swivelling as she grabs for the curtain and pulls it aside. Her eyes practically light up as she stares at you in the dress.

“I mean, it doesn’t exactly scream ‘ballgown’ but its cute!” Her thin fingers grab your shoulders and drag you back to the small room where Niffty, Angel and Vaggie now stood.

“OoooooOOOOooooOOOooooOOooOOooo!” Niffty dreamily sighs, darting up to you and nitpicking at the dress the same way in which she had with Vaggie.

You shrug and step out of the spacious room, watching as Angel rolls his eyes.

“What do you think, Angel?” You peer up, seeking his critique. He may have been an inconsiderate jerk some times, but he knew when something just wasn’t working.

“Its not ya style, toots” inspecting his nails, you feel a little self conscious under his scrutiny. You had, after all, asked for his opinion and found yourself nodding your head in agreement as you shifted from foot to foot with your hands on your hips. Your tail struggled to move below the dress, and you couldn’t bear the thought of having Niffty cut a hole in the back of it for you.

“I hate to say it, but I agree,” you sigh, eyes casting down at the sparkling red sequins and playing with one of the loose threads. “I just don’t like it all that much”

Vaggie, of all people gets it. She sends you a reassuring smile and makes a joke of the day.

“And we cant be wearing matching colours, can we?”

You glance up at her dress and cant help but think just how much more fitting it seemed for her personality. The off-the-shoulder beige sheer of the sleeves and skirt make way for the show-stopping array of red and black lace butterflies that weave around her arms and torso, the same delicate pattern hemming the bottom of her skirt. The fabric fades to a washed out black ombré just above her knees, the chiffon like layers complimenting her slight frame – creating an hourglass like illusion.

You smile along with her and gesture down to the dress.

“ _Red_ really isn’t my colour, anyways. Besides, I cant be clashing with a dress that stunning!”

Charlie quietly agrees, eyes darting around the room to try and find something – anything – a million shades away from the tacky red dress you currently wore. Walking over to her with soft footsteps, your eyes fell on something intensely different to what you were currently wearing.

“What about this …?” You plucked the dress from the clothing rack, and her eyes had barley settled on it for a moment before Niffty leaned over the couch with an enthusiastic nodding.

“Ohhhhh my gosh! THAT ONE! THAT ONE!” Niffty barrels for you, little legs pushing her forwards as her tiny hand clutches your arm and practically throws you back into the change room. You quickly strip down to your underwear and take a steadying breath as you climb into the ornate mass of green.

It was as far away from red as you were going to get.

The colour seemed so out of place in such a Hellscape, and you couldn’t help the small smile as you slid the glittering and gleaming sleeves drooping to either side of your bust and connecting to the back boning of the corseted back.

Fingers lightly trailing down the flowing layers that gathered at your waist, your tail sways back and forth happily as the gemstones shone in the bright lighting of the changing room, the ornate emerald designs swirling and dancing like graceful waterfalls to the base of the skirt, the ends lapping at the flooring like a greedy shoreline attempting to swallow the sands whole.

Turning and examining the back of the dress, you were sure that this was love felt like as your chest swelled with instant adoration for the dress you had stumbled across, ears perking up as you clutched the front skirt and hiked it up as you moved forwards, the dress fluttering with each and every step you took.

You step from the change room and all eyes are on you.


	22. Mind Your Manners ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your scheduled programming for some Niffty being Niffty :’)   
> Angel doesn’t believe in manners

Angel is the first one to flee from the car, winging and whining as he pushes the heavy doors of the Hotel open and storms inside – complaining about needing some ‘Bolivian Marching Power’ to get through the next girls day he gets dragged out on.

“FAT NUGGETS!” You hear him call from the driveway, and you laugh as you collect your things.

Rolling your eyes, you move from the limousine and clutch your purchase close to your chest as you race inside.

Your eyes spy the red and black mass that awaits your arrival at the doors, eyes closing and finger raised as he smiled widely,

“Welcome back, my dea-”

“ _SorryAlastorIgottagoputthisinmyroom!_ ” Your boots click as you ascend the stairs two steps at a time, fingers wasting no time in pulling out your key and slamming the door behind you. It had been the first time since your death that you had felt serious pride in something that you had purchased. Admiring the dress, you giddily sway back and forth in the confines of your room and sigh in pure, unadulterated contempt.

Carefully hanging the dress up in your still sparse wardrobe, you turn back to your bed and longingly wish for a moments respite from such an intense day’s worth of catching up and being kept on your toes.

* _Knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock_ *

You roll your eyes.

Only one person you know would knock so out of sequence.

And it wasn’t Angel Dust.

Turning to the door, you hear the knocking start once again.

“Alright, alright, I heard you the first time!” Groaning, you twist the golden door handle and pull the ebony wood along its hinges … perhaps too harshly.

You blow a wayward tendril of hair from your face and fake a smile as you look up at the ever tall Radio Demon.

“Alastor, always a pleasure. What can I do for you?”

“Why, I have prepared a feast in the dining room! Perhaps it would do you well to come and partake in the festivities?” His cocky smile immediately drained your mood, turning that brief high into a sour low. Your stomach grumbled, betraying your façade and informing him that yes, you would be joining everyone for dinner.

“Great, I’ll meet you down there” you huff and he tuts, shaking his head – little ears swaying with the sudden movements. Clasping his hands behind his back, and stands tall and raises his chin.

“SPLENDID! I shall escort you” he smiles with a smug tone, the static filling the air and invading your immediate personal space. You cringe away from him as he offers you his elbow.

“No, really. I’ll meet you down there…”

Cocking his brow, he leaned in closer – your instincts pulling you back as your tail stopped dead in its tracks. You pull a face that you hope conveys the meaning, ‘ _you have ten seconds to leave, or else_ ’

Come to think of it…

Ten seconds was being too nice.

“Now, now, darling, _I insist_!” The words seem to leave a visible impact in the air as you roll your eyes, tail dancing across the floor ever nervous in his presence. You sigh, and cave.

“Fine, fine, fine. But I’m not holding your elbow, so put it away” turning, you reach for a comfortable jumper and slip it over your white cotton dress and corset, smiling to yourself as it stops just above your boots.

You turn, spying Alastor curiously peeping into your room and you frown. _Could this guy not just mind his own damned business_? The more you think about it, people wouldn’t be so fearful of him if he didn’t have a keen eye and know everyone’s dirty laundry. 

“Hey! Hasn’t anyone told you its _rude_ to snoop?” You comment, voice harsh as you pull the door closed and lock it.

“ _My dear_ , I like to make _everyone’s business_ my own. It’s simply how one gains power over others in a place such as this. Perhaps you would do well to learn a few things about your … neighbours …” with a wink, he pulls his hands behind his back and hums to himself happily.

You had spent a lifetime using peoples weaknesses and infidelity against them. If you didn’t have to do it here – you wouldn’t.

Where you would pickpocket little trinkets when someone wasn’t looking in life – namely little things like golden pocket watches or diamond rings - you also liked to think you were a pretty decent human being.

But Alastor was a whole other ballgame.

Perhaps knowing a little more about _one of_ the most powerful demons in hell and _your boss_ wouldn’t be to bad of an idea.

You nod your head thoughtfully, catching sight of the curious glance that Alastor shoots your way down the bridge of his nose … you flash a toothy smile to hide your inner musings as you both enter the kitchen and living room.

“NO! I WILL NOT PASS YOU THE GRAVY!” Niffty’s eye was ablaze, her teeth wired shut as she withheld the gravy boat on her side of the table, “Not until you say please!”

“Or WHAT, pipsqueak?! You’ll go dust some more?” Angel cackles, two sets of claws digging into the table whilst the other set of arms waved with vulgar hand gestures. Niffty gasps, her brow pulling into a low frown as she races to the sink to tip whatever gravy she holds into the sink.

Roaring, Angel launches over the dining table – plates falling and crashing to the floor as Charlie and Vaggie plead to everyone to calm down.

“Guys, please!”, “EVERYONE TAKE A FUCKING CHILL PILL”

You leave them alone for all of ten minutes and everything falls to shit. 

“I see we are getting along like a house on fire! How entertaining” Alastor practically sings as he stands back to watch the chaos unfold.

You scoff up at him, stepping away from his side with a half cocked brow.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You sigh. You knew everyone in the same cramped quarters was a mess no matter the time of day. The smug bastard wasn’t going this out of the kindness of his heart – nay anything was done without some sick, twisted or demented reasoning behind it.

“Whatever shall I do? This little _dinner party_ is _unequivocally captivating_!” you shake your head at the pompous asshole you called a boss who simply stands with his hands clasped behind his back as he basked in the scene before him.

You roll your eyes and race past Vaggie — who is making a mammoth effort to hold Angel back as he claws and kicks his way across the kitchen floor to reach Niffty’s small figure – to join Charlie, who is fighting to keep the small demon from pouring the source of the fight down the drain.

“ANGEL!” You yell, voice cutting through the chaos and he snarls up at you, discoloured eyes narrowing as he screams back,

“WHAT?!”

“For the _love of LUCIFER_ , use your _fucking_ manners!” Nose scrunching as Niffty’s innate strength began to beat Charlie and your’s combined restraints, you begin to sweat as Charlie grunts in exertion.

“Not a chance in Hell, bitch!” Angel spits out, wriggling and writhing on the tiles as Vaggie wraps her arms around his waist harder.

The door swings open, Husk rubbing his eyes and looking utterly hungover, mumbling to himself under the riot currently taking place in the kitchen. You wished you were in his shoes, as he simply sits at the table and loads his plate up with various meats and carbs.

“Just say please!” Vaggie’s harsh voice pleads, her eye squeezing shut as Angel attempts to break free of her hold.

You send a pleading gaze to Alastor, who simply stands there enjoying the spectacle as if it were the most humorous thing he had seen in his afterlife. That toothy grin stretches from ear to ear as his shoulders shrug once his burning crimson eyes fall to your lacklustre effort to resolve the situation.

“Ya drop that gravy, ya dead! Ya hear me! D. E. D. DEAD!” Angel screams once again, and you cant help but roll your eyes as Alastor grins that sickening smile of his, xanthous teeth gleaming in the light of the dining room as his eyes stick to your struggling figure.

“Niffty, PLEASE! Just drop the gravy!” You plead, muscles screaming in exhaustion as her small hands slowly got closer to the basin of the sink.

“Not until he says please – hey what the~!”

Your muscles stop fighting as your eyes close to avoid the splatter.

Staring up at Niffty, she stands gobsmacked as one of her small hands moves to touch the mashed potato that slowly sinks into her perfectly puffed hair.

Eye wide, she looks at the potato on her finger.

You could almost hear the ticking time bomb counting down …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone can guess who we are going to write a sneaky invitation to in the next chapter, I’ll give you a cookie!


	23. A Horrible Decision Really ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a little bit of backstory on our darling’ demon and Hell’s inner workings :D

The hand on your shoulder startles you, eyes darting away from the 666 news broadcast about some new turf war going on. You shift on the toothy couch, eyes flickering to the dining hall and the new voice in the lobby area.

“Hey, ( _Y/N_ ). How are you doing?” You’re surprised to see Vaggie standing behind the couch, rather than Charlie.

“I mean … I’m pretty sure I have an all you can eat buffet in my hair right now, so … that’s great. How’s Charlie going in there?”

“Ohh you know, damage control. It always seems to be a reoccurring issue here”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the muffled shouts emanating from down the hallway and the mantis-like news anchor on the television laughing about the suffering of millions.

“Hey, so Alastor said something before dinner – or rather, what was supposed to be dinner before it ended up on the floor – about knowing your _‘neighbours’_. You seem to know a lot about him…” you sigh, looking up at her with desperate eyes.

“I know enough to _not trust him_ , that’s for sure” fiddling with the hem of her thigh-high stocking, her eye finds yours past her long snowy fringe. Sitting back into the couch, you peek down the hallway to be sure no prying eyes or ears were watching. Satisfied with the lack of static in the air and the literal _radio silence,_ you looked back to Vaggie.

“Do tell, working for him _is a nightmare_. He just … he seems to _always_ be there. _Lingering_ ”

She takes a deep breath and looks up to you with a grave expression, one she often wore when discussing hell.

“How much do you know about Hell?”

The question takes you back a step.

How much did you know?

You knew Charlie’s parents ran it, Lucifer was very much so what your parents and church liked to refer to as the first sinner. He had in fact been there in the garden of eden and been enthralled by how Lilith – Adam’s first wife – refused to submit to his will and left the garden to pursue a life of more than being someone’s footstool.

You knew that there was an extermination every year at the beginning of the year, it was how you wound up here at the hotel.

Aside from dropping from the sky and being some form of demonic-reincarnation of the person you were whilst alive, you didn’t know all that much besides what Vaggie had told yourself and Angel on your first day at the Hotel.

“Not that much, now that I think about it”

She nods, eyes scanning the room once again and she inhaled loudly before dropping her shoulders and looking you dead in the eyes.

“Hell works kind of like a … _monarchy_ ,” her choice of word throws you, because all you can think of is the butterfly, “Charlie’s parents are obviously _the top of it all_ , with her as their _only_ heir. There are a few royal families around, and while they are powerful, _nobody is as powerful as them two_. Lucifer was the first sinner, and as a fallen angel he descended straight down here with Lilith in tow and built this place from the ground up. Soon, _sinners from all over_ started _dropping from the sky_ ,”

She paused and kicked the carpet with her boot, twiddling her fingers nervously.

If only your parents had known that their parish was dead on, maybe they’d have tried harder to get you back on track.

“Okay, lemme just make sure I’ve got this right. _The_ Garden of Eden – that shit really happened, right?” You peer over at her and she nods,

“Right. As more and more people began sinning, this place started growing, a small stately home turned into a castle, the town turned into a city and soon powerful overlords began to rise to power under Lucifer’s watchful eye. _These guys are … seriously powerful_. Getting on their bad side usually means a lifetime sentence to the void”

“The void?” Confused, you pull your legs up onto the couch and tilt your head to the side, ears flopping to the side as you look up at her.

“Angel asked me a while back what happens when we die down here. We just sort of … end up in some endless black hole with nothing but ourselves to keep us company. They say the only demon to ever go in and back out again was Lucifer himself. Apparently you can’t kill an angel – fallen or not. Every other demon…”

“Is fair game?” You question. Vaggie nods and looks back over at you, the familiar expression whenever she dealt with Alastor quickly returning.

“Exactly,” she sighs, “One year, a mortal soul manifests in Hell – three guesses who,” shooting you a knowing look, you roll your eyes,

“Everyone’s favourite Radio Demon” she smirks, shooting a wink your way before resuming her tale after another series of screams sound down the hallway.

“He began to decimate the overlords and demons alike, with a few of them simply deciding not to fight – but rather making deals with him to save their territories and lives. There was only ever one overlord who he was truly equally matched with, one who refused to make any deals that I know of. Vox”

You nodded along, mind wandering as you thought about the small tidbit of information. 

“He had broadcast it over every radio in Hell, so that everyone could hear exactly what would happen if anyone decided to double-cross him. He is a monster, and no demon has ever gotten close to him and survived… It – I have no idea how you’ve managed to put up with him for all this time”

You let out a bitter laugh, giving her a look.

“I don’t think I had a choice, Vaggie. He just kind of … told me … that I was his assistant”

Her breath hisses through her teeth as she rests a comforting hand on you shoulder.

“I don’t like him being here any more than the next demon, but Charlie truly believes his little ‘ball’ is going to help put this hotel on the map”

You smile and pat the hand on your shoulder, watching her discomfort slowly melt away as the two of you come to some semblance of understanding.

“I really hope, for her sake, that Alastor’s plan pulls through. I don’t want to see what happens if this doesn’t work”

Vaggie shakes her head and smiles, long hair flowing behind her.

“Charlie will never give up. As long as there are souls down here that can be redeemed, she will keep trying to help… even if they don’t want her to”

“I imagine Angel isn’t on the road to redemption…” you whisper and she lowers her brows.

“Charlie was doing so well, that interview was supposed to help this place. _Angel is selfish_ , and doesn’t care about anyone but himself. If he does want to be redeemed, he’ll have to _figure it out in his own time_ ”

Two two of you sit in silence as the sounds from the dining room begin to die down. It takes Vaggie a moment before she speaks up and tells you to get some sleep, you nod and assure her you are going to go and get the roast beef out of your hair with _a well deserved_ shower.

You watch as she stands to walk back to the kitchen, her head hanging low as she pushes the doors open and disappears into the chasm of quiet chaos.

Sitting in quiet contemplation, you know you are going to regret whatever fallout comes from your decision, should you choose to go through with it.

“Fuck it” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else and stand up, flicking the television off and quietly tiptoeing towards Alastor’s office. Turning the door handle, you be sure to close it behind you with little to no noise as you creep up to the desk. Grabbing for your phone, you flick the flashlight on and illuminate the room, shadows _clawing_ up the walls in the most _unsettling_ ways.

Your eyes scan his desk for the golden envelopes, glad to see the bastard hasn’t delivered them yet and pull one from the unfinished pile. You scrawl the name onto the front and seal it, quickly stuffing it into one of the piles you had organised the day before.

Sending a silent prayer out to whatever cosmic deity was listening, you prayed that he wouldn’t go looking through the stacks you had already organised.

Leaving no stone unturned, you turn the flashlight off and beeline for the door, holding your breath as you back out of the room and finally letting the air hiss through your teeth.

Leaning your head against the wall, your tail sways back and forth as you try and rationalise what you’ve just done.

Turning with a sigh, your back shoots straight up as you come face to face with said manager of the fine establishment you called home. Fear flooded your veins as you stared into the endless expanse of red that his eyes seemed to possess, swallowing down the gut wrenching feeling of being caught red-handed.

“ _Alastor_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.


	24. Pretending Everything's Alright Is Detention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** OH MY GHHOD***  
> Just letting y’all know – we are – um – getting into some SHIT here. Its not Alastor shit, but it’s still shit none the less. Feel free to join me on the ferry to Hell –
> 
> *If you aren't all about that smut life, make sure to stop reading once you get to the following line ~   
> It was cool enough to warrant leaving the sliding door open, you just hopes that no creepy crawlies found their way into your room whilst you slept *

“My dear, ( _Y/N_ ), whatever could you be doing in my office?”

_ Shit.  _

_Lie. Lie, lie, lie._

“I thought I – _Uh_ – heard a – _um_ – noise…?” The way your voice curls at the end does little to assure him of your intentions, his brow quirking and usual grin widening as he taps his cane to the floor with a sickening thud.

“We wouldn’t be _jumping at shadows again_ , would we? _Hmmmm_?” That all-knowing tone of his was getting old, quick. But you couldn’t help as your mind races to the kitchen and plate incident. Shit, you had almost forgotten about being impaled by ceramic. And just what conversation had been exchanged between the both of you.

You _blush_ , heat rising in your cheeks as he has caught you right in the middle of your lie.

_Damn it._

“Not at all. Just thought I heard something. You know me” shrugging your shoulder, you flash what you hope is a reassuring smile his way. From the expression you receive – you know he isn’t fooled.

“Yes, you’re ever the _curious cat_ , aren’t you? A truly _vexing vulpini_ ” the static in the air seemed to dance around him, each word settling in an uncomfortable manner on your shoulders as if someone – _or something_ – was holding them with a long clawed grasp.

Your eyes dart back and forth, the dumbest question falling from your lips.

“A what?”

“Never you mind, my sweet. Now, _perhaps_ a shower is in order. I do believe you still have a _gallimaufry of foods_ in your hair and adorning your clothing. _I do detest stains_ ”

“No thanks to you. Will you ever just throw one normal dinner party?” You spy him twirl his microphone cane in his fingers, the sight of the little eyeball setting you on edge as it stands to face you.

“My dear, ‘ _normal_ ’ simply isn’t a word one would find in my vocabulary. _It is… simply unheard of_ ” the unseen audience laughed at your simple minded deduction, their laughter dying down as you frown at him.

“Will you ever not do that?” You ask, frustration seeping into your voice as your arms cross by your chest, hip jutting to the side as you glare up at him.

“Do what, _my sweet_?” He bats his eyelashes innocently, leaning a little to your eye line so you aren’t staring up at a breakneck angle to see him.

“Try to one up me?”

He chuckles, leaning down to your eye height and flashing a menacing grin.

“Why, when it is so _very entertaining_?” The crackling of his voice through his usual radio-tubes dissipates for a moment, his voice uncut and strangely clear.

You let a quiet sigh escape your lips as he stands to full height once more. Shooting a sideways glance his way, you raise your chin.

“You did all this because of me, didn’t you?”

“My dear, as enthralling as it was to watch you berate that little spider for his lack of manners, it had nothing to do with your transgressions. _It was simply a dinner party, nothing more_. Do try to not read in to it too much” you know for a fact that he is lying through his jagged teeth, the roast beef that sat in your heart could attest to his little plan playing out exactly how he would have liked it to.

“ _Suuuuuuure_. Message received. Next time I wont pull you up on your bullshit. Goodnight Alastor” you breeze past him and climb the stairs, the feeling of his eyes following you long after you had left his eyesight tingling your back as you stepped onto the third floor.

Entering your bedroom, you finally catch your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and let out a shrill scream.

Your hair is a mess, ears covered in gravy and potatoes, you’re sure there is a pea lodged in the mass of yellowish mash that sits in grotesque clumps atop your head. Your jumper, thankfully, took the most damage and was nothing that a few trips through the wash wouldn’t fix.

“Ugh, disgusting” you scowl as you drop your fingers to the front of the corset and began unlacing it. Slipping off one boot after the other, you climbed into the shower and turned the faucets to full heat – or as heated as the sub par water here would allow.

The lukewarm spray ran down your shoulders and back, eliciting a low moan from your lips as you began to work some of the foodstuffs out of the tangled mess that was your hair now. Fingers slowly working out all the pieces of meat and vegetables, plucking them out and throwing them into the sink beside the shower.

You took a moment to reflect on the night.

Of course your little stunt earlier today had to have been the main motivator for the disaster-dinner-party. Alastor was truly a force to be reckoned with, but the worst he had done was cause chaos in the hotel – it was hard to imagine him being some fear-inducing slaughterer.

You though back to your first day at the hotel, and took a step back in your thought process. He had absolutely decimated the snake demons zeppelin with little to no effort, perhaps he was indeed a formidable foe.

Surely he had killed others for less than calling him out on his little white lies.

You had pushed and pushed over the past month, getting a little more resilient and dealing with the questionable quirks that came with living in literal Hell. You were getting bolder around Alastor and the most sickening revelation hit you.

You were slowly getting comfortable with his presence.

The static didn’t bother you as much as it used to, the old-time radio host voice slowly growing on you. He was like a silent tumour, his presence seeping into your very bones. What was the word people used to explain how horrific events didn’t bother us as much as they once would have?

_Desensitised._

That’s the one.

_For the love of Lucifer._

You were becoming desensitised to the horrible individual you worked for.

And the worst part …?

And you didn’t feel anywhere near _as bad about it_ as you _should_ have.

Shaking your head, you craved a distraction. Grabbing for the shampoo you lathered it between your hands and worked it through your hair, carefully massaging your scalp and ears. A heady moan filled the shower stall as the dirt and miscellaneous food items washed away, you had never realised just how nice it felt to touch your ears.

As you rinsed the suds from your hair, some strange low frequency seemed to emanate from your throat, the sound completely taking you aback.

“What the…?”

Were you … _purring_?

“Didn’t even know foxes could purr” you muse out loud, the sound dying down quickly as you frowned down at your naked form. Quickly running the conditioner through your hair and grabbing for your towel, you step from the bathroom and towel dry your mess of curls.

Humming to yourself, you step into your wardrobe and quickly don the baggy shirt and shorts you had designated for pyjama time and step out onto your balcony and into the balmy night, staring up at the menacing red pentagram in the sky.

Just beyond lay the strange lack moon, the same glowing star etched into the surface. The thing that had always caught your eyes was the tantalisingly close white planet, the blueish clouds and bright halo that adorned the top of the planet.

Heaven.

You could almost hear the taunts of redemption echoing down to you.

For Charlie’s sake, you really hoped that her dream of redeeming sinners could become a reality. You were sure the worst of the worst were beyond redemption and trying to better themselves, but for those who had done a little wrong instead of a lotta wrong in their lives … well maybe they had a chance at seeing a blue sky and green grass again.

Shaking your head, you imagine what Heaven might be like … perhaps you were greeted with a smile, instead of a scowl. Your neighbours would offer you a cup of sugar rather than a box of severed fingers. You laugh, you wish you had listened more in bible studies.

It was cool enough to warrant leaving the sliding door open, you just hopes that no creepy crawlies found their way into your room whilst you slept.

Hours passed and tossed and turned, eyes finally snapping open in frustration as you stared at the clock. It was only 11pm. Silence enveloped the hotel, everyone had surely gone to bed or passed out behind the bar.

Eyes skirting around the room, you swallowed the nervous ball of saliva that had gathered as you considered something.

Holding your breath, you strained your ears – for any sounds of movement around the hotel. When not even the clopping of pigs hooves tingled your senses you let out the long breath you had caught against and closed your eyes.

Fingers skimming the waistband of your shorts, you tried to steady the raging heartbeat in your ears, the thundering echoing all around you as you let your long nails graze against your pale flesh.

You hadn’t done anything like this since you were alive, the very idea sending sickening shocks of anxiety throughout your bloodstream before settling in your stomach, pooling and making you lightheaded.

Steadying your hands, your fingers slide down lower only to be met with an endless expanse of wetness. For someone who had a tail and ears, you made a solid effort to keep any and all other forms of bodily hair to a minimum. Your fingers found the delicate little bundle of nerves at the apex of your tights, the first touch sending a hold of electricity up your spine –

Satisfied that there were no sounds of movement around the hotel, you swallowed hard and set about gently caressing your chest – focusing on your clit as burning need began to tingle in your toes and abdomen.

A quiet moan slips through the air as the waves of pleasure shudders through your shaking form, head tossing back into the pillows as you bite your lip. Your fingers move faster, running in circles as a symphony of soft moans escape your lips.

The fire inside you rages on, your fingers working quickly to reach your peak, toes tingling and lip tugging between your teeth as you finally reach that glorious climax – chest heaving and eyes squeezed shut, one final shaking moan filling the silence in the room as you lay in a state of sleepy bliss.

Letting out a satisfied hum, you snuggle into your sheets and slowly drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some shitty news – I’ll be going on holiday up in Port Douglas, so I wont be able to upload next week on Monday, Wednesday or Friday – But I’ll be back the week after with five more chapters! 
> 
> I hope y’all enjoyed this little chapter ~~


	25. Un-Godly Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUZZAH! I have returned with two chapters
> 
> The songs in this chapter are;  
> "Moonlight" Sonata - Beethoven  
> "Piano Duet" - From the Corpse Bride

The delicate keys of the piano drifts up to where you lay slumbering, your head shifting in the comfortable mass of pillows you had accumulated atop your bed – the melodies drifting through the air disturbing the rare moment of peace that had found you in Hell.

Lifting your head from the pillow, you frown at your door.

It swung silently on its hinges … the smallest peep of candlelight filtering in through the tiny gap beside the doorframe.

Swinging your feet from the warm blankets, palms rubbing your eyes as they focused in the low light. With a yawn, you sought out the source of the beautiful ballad.

As you stepped through your door, you noted that you had to get the doorknob changed,

“ _This thing is always coming loose_ ” you mutter, closing the door behind you and making your way down the hallway. Your fingers skirted along the banisters of the staircase, before your bared feet took you towards the final flight that would land you in the lobby.

Husker sat – _unsurprisingly_ – passed out on top of the Hazbin Hotel’s bar, the loud snores filling the room as the small puddle of drool atop the counter top steadily grew in size as said drool dribbled through his pointed apricot coloured teeth. The dying embers of the fireplace danced off of the walls, the light fading fast as you shook your head at Husks state … and the piece of corn that sat nestled behind his ear.

You tiptoed past, knowing not even a tornado would wake him up but old habits die hard you guess.

The sounds of his snoring began to fade out as the melody grabbed your attention once again. Your eyes scanned the darkened room, your feet disappearing as you moved further into the lobby. Squinting, you grabbed for three-point candelabra and fumbled for the matches you knew Charlie kept in the small side table beside the fireplace. With the flick of your wrist, the flame burst to life as the last ember within the fireplace died.

Sighing with relief, all three candles lit your way as you stepped down the hallway past the kitchen and dining room doors. You had never truly ventured _this far_ into the Hotel, only running up and down the 13 flights to drop things to Charlie or Vaggie – Perhaps on occasion walking past Alastor’s room and praying he wouldn’t walk out at that exact moment.

You knew what lay within the belly of the hotel, Charlie had made sure to brief you on all the recreational rooms.

As you followed the sweet serenade of the piano strings, you found yourself stopping before the most intricate door you had ever seen in your life. The glistening gold detailing catches the flickering candlelight, the swirling patterns mimicking each other in a perfect mirror. You’re sure there is some rhyme and reason here but lack the proper sleep to try and decode the hidden meanings and messages within the door.

Taking a deep breath, you push the heavy door open and glance around the extravagant room. The ceilings are high, higher than any you had ever laid eyes on with twisting spires of gold that line each side of the hall. As your bare feet pad along the floor, you unconsciously step towards the low melodies that echo around the ballroom – the open space creating the most divine feedback you had ever encountered in either life or death.

You stand frozen as the once light and easy notes begin to hit harder before drifting back into the same repeated sequence once again. You know you have heard this song somewhere but cannot quite place your finger on where you had heard it.

The wonderfully melancholy melodies echo about the hall, your eyes finally turning to the player of such a beautiful tune. A lone candle illuminates a small portion of the floor, the shadow of the graceful player hidden from your eye-line behind the open lid of the gorgeous instrument. You quietly tiptoe around the edge of the hall, hoping to catch a peek at the source of the phantom piano player.

You step forward, as if enchanted by the music – unconsciously lifting your chin and peering around the lid of the black piano.

Your breath freezes in your throat.

Sitting at the bench is none other than your _least favourite person_.

His eyes are closed as the low chords fill the air, his usual attire gone and replaced with a simple red button up business shirt, black slacks and the usual bow-tie. Your lips tug into a reluctant smile at the matching black suspenders that clip into the waist of his pants.

The melancholy lullaby begins to drift away as you approach, his crimson eyes opening as his fingers find the final keys and takes in your disheveled appearance with his usual sly smirk.

“Whatever brings you down here at such an ungodly hour, my dear?” He chuckles darkly, and you roll your eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know … someone decided to play the piano incredibly loud in the ballroom - of all places”

“Now who would be foolish enough to do something like that?” Batting his eyes with faux innocence, you smirk and roll your eyes. Somehow the gesture seemed somewhat endearing, despite him walking you up.

You stand in silence for a moment, his gaze unwavering as he smiles up at you. A thought seems to strike him as he moves to the side of the bench and gestures for you to sit beside him, placing your own candelabra beside his. You nod and take your place on the lower-middle end of the keys and watch as he resumes the piece he had been previously playing, the gentle melodies running through your body and eliciting a small sway from you as you watched his fingers skillfully dance about the ivory keys.

“I didn’t know you could play” you find yourself whispering, your voice cracking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

“My dear… I’m afraid many of the inhabitants of Hell know very little about me – _perhaps nothing at all_ – outside of what I wish them to” he hums, sharp teeth pulling into a low smile.

If it was anyone else, you would have assumed the sour mood had placed a melancholy smile upon his lips.

You were you were the only one to have ever seen such a sight and lived to tell the tale.

“My … my father taught me how to play when I was very young. I don’t remember much, but I know one or two songs” you sigh, hating opening up to people about your life. _It made you feel weak_ , in a world where serial killers, rapists, drug addicts and people who kicked puppies for fun got their rocks off by preying on the helpless. Your crimes against society were nothing compared to their transgressions.

When no reply came beyond the slowing of the symphony you felt compelled to take a deep breath and keep talking.

“Whenever I’d go to my friends’ house, we would watch this movie. We made it our mission to learn it. Its been a while, but I think I remember most of it” you smile, softly resting your fingers against the ivory keys as Alastor stared at you curiously, that familiar crane in his neck as his monocle flashed in the low light.

Breathing in and closing your eyes, your long nails graze across the keys as you attempt to find the right notes, a small smile upon your lips as you realise, you’d be found the right harmony.

You begin, slow and unsure, as your right-hand dances about the lower spectrum of the ivories.

The first set of notes hits you right in the feels, nostalgia flooding through you as you recall being that young and innocent child who simply wanted to teach herself something more. Endless smiles and cherished memories flood your mind as you let your left-hand wander about the piano as the lower notes compliment the mid-tones perfectly.

Glancing over at Alastor, his brows quirk as he watches you play – the piece a far cry from the skilled and complex one he had been playing moments before but just as satisfying to play in your own simplistic way.

You vaguely remember the words that go to the song, so you begin to hum them as quietly as possible as the first set of the next chord echoes about the ballroom, the silence falling to deaf ears as you stare up at him expectantly.

He shakes his head and chuckles to himself.

“Am I under the presumption that something should be happening here, my dear ( _Y/N_ )?” With the quick of his brow, he leans into his palm and you cannot help but roll your eyes as you release a quick hiss of air through your teeth.

“Yes, you goose. You’re supposed to mimic the melody” you nod as your fingers hit each note once again, eyes flashing between his crimson orbs and the pale white keys and waiting for him to parrot the sound back to you in a higher pitch. You can’t help but smile with childish glee as he not only repeats the melodies, but plays the notes so softly as if unsure of the far-from-classical-approach you had forced him into.

“This next part is a little tricky,” you hum, shooting him a small smile as you play the chords, but he is a master at the finer arts it seems, as he parrots back the same melody once again.

“It hardly seems confusing, my dearest. Complete child’s play!” he chuckles as he adjusts his monocle. You roll your eyes and pull up your sleeves, lifting your brow and smiling down at the keys as you mutter something resembling a ‘mhmm’, stretching out your arms and fingers – the joints all settling back into place with a dramatic snap, crackle and pop.

You were beginning to pick up Angels flair for theatrics.

“Sure, sure, sure. Lets just pretend this next part didn’t take me the better part of a year to learn”

“You had best impress, we wouldn’t want all that hard work to be for nothing, now would we?. After all – _persistence_ is key!” he stares down, almost expectantly as you lean over towards his side, picking up on the impossible-to-miss way his spine stiffens as your fingers danced about the higher pitches with quick succession, the harmonies filling the ballroom with the echo lending some strangely ethereal qualities to the music.

Your frown pulls down deep as your muscle memory fights to remind your brain the notes should progress, and you’re sure you slip up a few times and miss a few of the lesser notes but complete the set without much of a hiccup.

“My, my. Truly impressive,” he muses to himself before pulling the bench closer to the sleek black sheen of the grand piano. “Perhaps something … like this?” He muses, the usual radio static filling the air as your tired eyes fall to his expert fingers once again, the very song and tune taking on a whole new life in a less than gothic symphony of sound but rather becoming slightly more jazz like – a quality very, very fitting for the Radio Demon.

It takes you a moment to find the right time and place, but you contribute what you can with your limited skill – the whole composition filling the ballroom with a truly marvelous harmony that you can almost see dancing around the room, hiding in the darkest of places and twisting around the flickering candlelight.

With a light laugh, you let the music consume you – not caring who was awoken by such a racket – and let the creativity spark at your fingertips.

“Well, it sure seems you have a gift for …. that of the musical persuasion” he hums, the static in the air and odd radio snippets ringing in your ears as he pauses and searches for the right words.

You scoff, noticing just how close to him you had become throughout the strange little midnight musical session, and slide away from him to widen the gap between your bodies.

“Please, you did most of the heavy lifting” you rub the back of your neck, an awkward smile playing across your lips as he tilts his head to the side, considering. You grow nervous under his gaze as the light and easy mood of the night grows tense under his stare.

“What?”

Shaking himself out of whatever strange manner of internal dialogue had been ranging through his mind, you smiled down at you – the genuinely warming gesture seeming so out of place for someone supposed to be so damned dangerous.

“It appears to be rather late, perhaps we should be getting you off to bed?” he suggests, and you cant help but agree. You had come down out of annoyance and curiosity – and found the strangest thing of all … a genuinely heartwarming and entertaining moment with the Radio Demon. The words didn’t sit right in your mind as you pulled your sleeves down to your knuckles in a nervous attempt to shield yourself.

“Some sleep sounds great, as long as you aren’t planning on keeping anyone awake with more piano playing…?” You shoot him an accusatory stare, his hands raising in surrender as he grabs for the candelabra and shuts the piano lid with little more than the snap of his fingers – leaving behind nothing but feint memories and a ballroom shrouded in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, are we starting to actually get along with Alastor?


	26. Hell-opoly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell-tunes, Hell-opoly ~~ There's a lot of Hell themed items in here :')

Arms stretching above your head with a satisfying pop as everything clicked back in to place, you cant quite remember what time you got to bed, but were glad to be waking up after a small sleep in on such a balmy Saturday morning. Smiling to yourself, arms pushing below your pillow as you roll to your side, a frown pulls at your brows as your fingers feel something hard and square below the pillow.

Groggy and unsure, you rest on an elbow and lift the fluffy white pillow up and stare blankly at the object.

The A5 hardcover book has a beautiful red and gold swirling pattern, the intricate designs catching your eye and glittering in the morning light. Smiling, you flip open the booklet to examine the blank pages – staring in confusion at the thick card that falls from one of the pages within.

Reaching, you turn the card to read whatever is inscribed on it;

_For your true passion …_

“True passion?” You question, dumbfounded by the notes request. Frowning, you glance at the closed doors to your balcony. No name, no author. Just a random note.

Strange.

Thinking nothing more of it, you place the journal down on your bedside table and grab for a fresh set of clothes. You have no doubts that the next couple of months worth of work is going to consist of more aimless running about and helping to set up the ballroom for whatever insanely grand party Alastor is planning on throwing. You’re a million percent positive that he will throw a hissy fit if everything isn’t exactly right.

Sighing as you grab for a loose fitted sundress and some close toed flats.

“I really hope this party works… for Charlie’s sake”

Twisting your hair up into a messy bun, you turn and stop in your tracks. Eyeing off the journal, you can’t help but smile like an idiot as you turn and grab it – racing down the stairs until you stumble headfirst into the strangest scene before you.

“I’ll say this once, hands off the top hat, jackass” Husk growls, ears turning back as he pulls the silver token out of Angels grasping hands, his mismatched eyes shooting a mischievous wink at the cat demon.

“ _What’ll you do to me if I don’t?_” Wagging his brows, Angel leans in close and you can’t help but smile at the whole ordeal. A month in Hell and Husk had to be the most resilient person you had ever met.

Making a sickened sound and shooting a filthy glare at the arachnid, Husker reaches for the brown bottle beside his seat and takes a long swig from the bottle, flipping Angel off when he is blown a kiss.

“Oh! Oh! OHHHH! _I want this one!_ ” Niffty bounces about, grabbing for the Iron and holding it to her chest protectively.

Moving into the lobby and pulling your legs up onto the couch, you can’t help but reflect on what poor choices led you here. Pulling you from your stare into nothing-ness was the delicate wave from Charlie on the other side of the lobby.

“Hey, (Y/N). Wanna join us?” Charlie calls from the coffee table as she spies you walking into the lobby.

“Ahhhh… I’m not too good at board games” you laugh, knowing full well juts hoe hopeless you are at board games.

“Oh, okay” she smiles, sitting back down beside the small coffee table and I king up the car token. You watch onward with curiosity as everyone picks their tokens for the game. Vaggie had selected the thimble, Charlie the car, Niffty with the old-fashioned iron, Husker with the top hat and Angel … well Angel had to settle for the wheelbarrow.

You can’t help but think the wheelbarrow is a somewhat perfect fit for Angel. If he ever caught you thinking that, he’d probably slap you senseless. The thought makes you chuckle as you settle into the couch and open up the journal, pulling a pen from the small drawer beside you.

They begin their game, Vaggie acting as the ruling authority and taking the role of banker. Dishing out all the cash, each player takes their turn moving around the board, about ten minutes into the foolishness and you find yourself looking at each of the people you once considered strangers. Who would have thought that you’d find friends in this unlikely rag-tag group of strange sinners? As you watch the family game unravel, with properties along the north and east being snatched up by Vaggie, Niffty and Charlie – Husk and Angel begin to get more and more frustrated.

As Husker pulls the third chance card that sends him to jail, he groans in desperation.

“You’ve got to be fucking KIDDING me!”

“Hey Husky, if you need a cell mate, I’ll happily off someone to come join ya’” Angels purrs, you watch on as his features twist into a mishmash of disgust and annoyance.

“I’ll give you two hundred bucks to stay the fuck away from me”

Angel tilts his head to the side and laughs, boop-ing Husks nose – earning himself a low warning growl - and laughs.

“No deal, Husky. Two hundred bucks and I’ll be ya jailbird while ya doin time – howzat sound?”

“Go fuck yourself”

“I’ll be needin’ some adult supervision”

You crack up, dying on the couch as Niffty frowns and shoots daggers at the boys, rolling her eye and the dice as she claims another property. As Vaggie rolls, she lands on one of Niffty’s properties and pays the fees, mumbling about ‘old fashioned purchasing habits’ and wrecking the property market for millennial's.

These demons – coworkers – friends … they were becoming your family. One. Big. Dysfunctional. Family.

But you loved them.

Staring down at your journal, you began to write. Not a memory, but feelings. Before you knew it the page was filled to the brim with words, scribbles and smooth arrows. Smiling to yourself, you scribble a birds cage – the latch undone and the small canary fleeing its captivity.

_‘I had a voice, but I could not sing’_

You’re sure you’ve worked out the kinks in the piece, running the words through your mind a million times until you’re happy with them, scribbling little notes and rearranging phrases. Looking up, Husk takes a long swig of his drink – Niffty has her arms stretched above her head with glee, Angel buries his head in his hands whilst Fat Nuggets looks up at him with an adorable awestruck gleam in its dark eyes, Charlie is on the floor in a fit of laughter and Vaggie seems unsure about the whole situation.

_‘There’s a scream inside that we all try to hide, we hold on so tight - but I don’t want to die’_

Lost in the moment, you smile and write faster than you knew you were capable of.

_‘You held me down, but I fought back loud’_

It is only when a long-clawed hand rests upon your shoulder and pulls you from the writing frenzy do you look up. Usually, seeing Alastor sent a cold chill up your spine – the static always clinging to your shoulders like a lost puppy you just couldn’t get rid of.

“Alastor?” You asked, a small smile tugging at your lips, an unconscious afterthought as you closed the journal on your lap.

“I trust you slept well, my dear” he smiles down at you, and you stare dumbly as nervousness flutters in your stomach.

“I – uh – yes. Yes I did, after a certain someone stopped playing the piano at an ungodly hour”

“Wonderful to hear! Absolutely splendid! Now, do tell, whatever seems to be happening here?” He stands, hands wrapped snugly around the black mug that holds some steamy substance. Do they have coffee in hell? You really hoped he was holding coffee. Surprisingly, he’s in pretty casual clothes – by his standards – with plain red slacks, a white and red pinstripe shirt and the classic black bow tie fasted by his neck.

Shaking your head and watching Angel grow more and more frustrated as his money stack dwindled.

“I think they’re playing monopoly?”

“What is this … monopoly?”

“Uhh…” you frown. How did he not know monopoly? “Monopoly? You know, like … the money and the properties?”

He smiles wide.

“No, I’m afraid I am woefully unaware of this particular board game” you go to make a quick remark about him not knowing what one of the most prolific games of all time – but a loud roaring from across the room draws you eye and leave your mouth hanging open.

“THIS IS FUCKIN BULLSHIT” you watch on in horror as his Angels hands grip the bottom of the table, his slender legs curled below him as his eyes narrowed in unadulterated rage. The bellowing roar fills your ears, flattening then to your head in an effort to take the pack from the punch – cringing into yourself as Angel grabs for Fat Nuggets and surveys the mess he had made.

“Wow” Niffty sits, shock filled her features before she frowns up and practically explodes, “you – you wrecked the game!!” 

“BECAUSE YA' A CHEATING LIL' BITCH!”

Recoiling with a gasp, Vaggie acts fast and dives across the overturned table to grab Niffty before she can launch across the room and gouge Angels eyes out.

“NO! You're nasty! Just because you can’t take losing!”

Your eyes drift up to Alastor, who is positively eating the whole debacle up with a shit grin planted across his face as he held his coffee mug by his chest. Moving your gaze back down to the all out brawl that’s breaking out on the other side of the lobby, you can’t help but smile.

“Come on Fat Nuggets” he tuts as he holds the small piglet close to his side and turns on one heel - that telltale clicking of his heels sounding all the way up the stairs before disappearing down the carpeted hallway.

Charlie sat, owlish eyes wide as she shook her head slowly.

“So much for a fun night in” shrugging, she looked up at Husk, “help me clean up?”

“Fuck this. I’m out” he stood and moved with a sluggish pace towards the kitchen. Charlie shot a pleading look at Niffty and Vaggie – who made quick work of putting everything back into the box. Storming out of the room, Niffty took her leave and grabbed for the broom on her way out of the lobby – making an effort to passive aggressively sweep as loud as she could in the other room.

Vaggie grabbed Charlie’s shoulders with a reassuring squeeze and led her out the front off the lobby, leaving you and Alastor together.

Yeah, these fucked up weirdos … they were totally your family.

“What a truly entertaining scene! It seems like ‘monopoly’ game is quite spectacular” he hums, a low chuckle following the quick sip of coffee.

“Yeah,” you mumble, “it’s been known to end a few friendships”

“I’ll say! I haven’t seen an argument that heated since Big Jim busted the moonshiners in ’31 – oh, ho, ho! What a riot!”

“Riiiiight” you huff, standing from the couch and sort of swinging on your heels awkwardly. The thought of the night before stabs at your guts, had anyone else woken up and heard the first song? Had you woken anyone up with your little duet? What the fuck even was last night?!

As you’re about to open your mouth, swallowing the nagging anxiety that’s blooming in your stomach, his eyes drop down – that monocle of his gleaming in the morning light – and narrow once he sees the journal clasped between your fingers. 

“I see you’re putting that journal to good use” he smiles, and winks over the brim of the mug before turning tail and closing the kitchen door behind him with a soft click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's going to do it from me today, I have to race off to work but I hope y'all enjoyed!! 
> 
> I'll see you back on Monday for another double upload :D


	27. Fuck This Shit I’m Out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I've had a bit of a family emergency come up and will only be able to upload one chapter today - plzdontkillmeiswearthisficisstillpushingforwards  
> so this weeks schedule will be flipped a little bit with one upload today and one on friday.

“Thanks for that Niffty” Charlie beams as the small demon drops a giant stack of boxes twice her height to the gleaming golden marble floor.

“Not a worry! I’ll go see if I can find more decorations” she beams, tangerine eye as wide as a saucer as she raced up the platform stairs at the end of the hall, disappearing down the dark hallway – her tiny feet echoing with each step.

“Oh no that’s … okay” Charlie sighs, a small smile on her lips as she turns to examine the endless stashes of decorations that lay dormant and dusty inside the worn cardboard. Kneeling down across from Vaggie, you carefully unlatch the box’s lid – a thick cloud of dust from storage and general misuse racing to your nostrils.

The unpleasant tingle sends you scrunching your nose up, until a small sneeze snaps the tension building within your sinuses. Rubbing your nose, you blink up at Charlie through the cloud of dust.

“Where did these even come from?” Tilting your head, you rummage through the strange spirals, twisted tundras and broken baubles. Holding up a shattered glass spire, you frown.

“Yeeeeeah. I guess these were just … on the p-property when we found it. This area was a little way away from the rest of the city, so it wasn’t as well defended against the exterminators. Everyone who was staying here was killed either in their rooms or on the property” she rubs her arms, as if to comfort herself. After hearing the story of how the deed fell into the princess of Hell’s hands – you’re half convinced to do the same.

“My god … that’s horrible”

Vaggie raises a brow at you, pulling her hands from the box and producing shattered or outdated decorations.

“You can say that again”

“Eventually we got a crew in to help clean it all out … but unfortunately Vaggie and I have had to do most of the maintenance and upkeep on the Hotel. Hopefully this party next week will help us get a few more people through the door and we can start to _really_ make a difference!”

Her positivity is infectious, a swelling sense of pride filled your chest as you looked at someone you considered not just a friend – _but family_. God knew you needed it.

“So how many people have actually said they’re attending?” Vaggie’s questioning gaze had you stumped. You pause and think, you had confirmed a few numbers with Alastor – but outside of the envelopes that didn’t come back with a ‘return to sender’ stamp the numbers were still pretty phenomenal. 

“Last I checked, something crazy like 155? Is that good?”

“Eh, its probably just demons coming for free food. Didn’t Alastor say he sent out something like _a thousand invitations_?” with a sigh, Vaggie stands and dusts whatever has collected on her plaid skirt off, the dirt and fluff falling to the floor which you’re sure is going to send Niffty into another cleaning frenzy.

You shrug, it didn’t feel like you wrote that many invitations and addresses. Maybe he had done some himself. Looking back into the box for a moment, you try – and fail – to contain the small smile that plays upon your lips.

Charlie looks like she is about ready to burst, her hands clenched together in tight fists as her eyes beam with pure happiness. Before she explodes, you smile up at her.

“You’d best spill it, Charlie … before keeping the secret eats you alive” laughing, you stand beside Vaggie who stares at her girlfriend with loving concern.

“Wellllll…” the next words pour out of her so fast – that you can barely keep up, “ _IwascheckingthemailtheotherdayandIgotanRSVPbackanditwasfrommymumanddad_!”

Sapphire eyes wide with confusion, you can’t help the owlish blink that takes over your features.

“I’m sorry, say what now?” Shaking your head, you tuck your hands into your pockets and lean forward on your heels, shooting a questioning glance at Vaggie, who shrugs beside you. The movement sending her loose hanging fringe back behind her ear just a tad and revealing the bright red X along her other eye. Nearly three months in Hell and you were barely registering one of the things that frightened you the most about Vaggie when you had first met her. You supposed the same was true about Niffty - after all, Hell was responsible for some weird shit.

“I was checking the mail the other day and I got an RSVP back and it was from my mum and dad! See!”

Her smiles widens as she pulls a metallic purple envelope from the black puffy-wool jacket that swamps her thin figure. Practically shoving it to you, staring down at the delicate handwriting that was far from familiar to you. Reading the address line made slightly more sense.

_Our darling daughter …_

Blinking up at Charlie, she practically bounces with excitement, the glittering and gleaming stars in her eyes beaming with joy as she snatches the envelope from your hands and twirls about the ballroom.

“I can’t believe they’re actually coming!” She sung, rainbows practically sprouting from her fingertips.

Vaggie steps forwards, grabbing onto the princesses’ hand and halting her twirling.

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Hun. But don’t get your hopes up, you know how busy they can get”

Sighing, Charlie fiddles with a lose fray on her jacket.

“I know, I know. Its just … I haven’t seen them in _so long_ and I can’t wait for them to see with their _own eyes_ what we are trying to achieve here. I just need one demon, _one soul_ , to prove that this works so my dad won’t think I’m _some sort of failure_ – you know?”

The silence that fills the ballroom is deafening – the feeling of your ears ringing with the dead air makes you incredibly uncomfortable.

Lifting your head, you grab onto a crystal spiral you had seen a few moments before.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know Char… when you put your mind to it, _nothing is impossible_ ”

She beams up at you, her arms closing around you in a soul crushing hug that you cannot help but smile and lean in to.

“You’re getting better at pep talks than me – _not cool_ , ( _Y/N_ )!” She laughs, shoulders shaking under the thick wool material as her bright pink cheeks pull into a wide smile. The hug is pretty short lived, as Vaggie puts her hands on her hips and points to all of the broken, dusty and dated decorations that lay on the ballroom floor.

“That’s all well and good, but we need some new decorations. These are all … _well they’re shitty_ ” she laughs, looking over where Charlie and you stood, nodding in agreement. Your fingers run along the smooth edges of the crystalline spiral – admiring it as the lights around the room catch on each individual crack and curve sending a hundred shining beams of light to the floor. An idea struck you.

“It’s getting colder here, and we are trying to get people interested in heaven … _right_?” unsure and looking up towards the two demonesses they nod. Frowning down at the glass decoration in your hands, you hold it out for the two of them to look at.

“Yeah?” Charlie raises her brow, taking the crystal spiral from your hands and twirls it around – gaze in awe as it catches the light and displaced it again mimicking a disco ball in a way.

“ _Soooo_ what if we try and find more decorations like this? It’d go really well with the whole ‘heaven’ theme and fit right in with the colder weather … kind of like a winter wonderland sort of thing. Plus, it’d look super neat with the floor all lit up if the lights hit the crystals like that!”

They stare at you for a moment, blinking and contemplating the idea you’d just pitched. You know the exact moment Charlie was on board – her bright pink cheeks pulling to the side to reveal her perfect smile and dark eyes growing three times their size in excitement.

“ _I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!_ Vaggie tell me you love it!” Turning to the little moth, she bounces about on her toes and squeals in excitement as Vaggie agrees with a reluctant smile. Kneeling back down, the three of you begin to sift through the mix of red, black, gold and brown decorations, streamers, banners and ribbons. Growing more and more frustrated you peer down at the glass spire and let out a sigh in a quick huff.

“I hate to say it … but that might be the _only one_ of those glass decorations” peering up at the girls, you frown. When Charlie stands with the shake of her head, an all-encompassing sense of dread fills you – fearing the worst and praying that you hadn’t just wrecked whatever idea of the party she had concocted in her mind.

“No, nope. No! We are _going to make this work!_ Vaggie and I will go and look for some at the emporium – Rosie owes me a few favours and _I’m sure_ she will have something”

Grabbing for her scarf and tugging on Vaggie’s hand, Charlie vows that she will find more decorations even if she has to make them herself. Her only order for the rest of the day was that you find what little decorations would be salvageable and usable for the party next week. Nodding, you set to opening each musty box and rifling about inside – coming up empty handed each time.

Sighing, you stood and dusted off your black business pants before side-eying the grand piano that had been moved from the middle of the room to the platform between the split stairs at the end of the hall. Slowly making your way across the golden marbled floor – your mouth runs dry as you climb each stair. Your long fingers skating across the Ivory keys – testing the sound that echoes around the ballroom as your almost completely white tail swept the floor with uncertainty.

Eyes skirting about the ballroom, nodding once you’re satisfied that you are in fact alone you take a seat at the plush black bench before the grand piano. The melody it produces pulls a smile from deep inside you as your soul sings.

_“Clipped wings, I was a broken thing – had a voice, had a voice but I could not sing”_

The words that you had written had run rampant circles in your mind for the last month, your fingers itching to get onto the piano and bring life to the phantom chords that you had only hummed in it the safety of your room.

“ _Had a voice, had a voice – but I could not sing_ ”

Scanning the room around you, you began to relax in small and slow increments as your inner thoughts settled upon the next lyric you had written in the safety and security of your room.

“ _You would wind me down – I struggled on the ground, oh_ ”

Focusing on the way your fingers traced the pale keys and the melancholy melody they produced, you were too wrapped up in the way the bottled up and repressed emotions that had built up in you to notice the ballroom door swinging open on its hinges or the pair of blood red eyes that peered down at you curiously from the top of the staircase … hidden in just enough shadow that they were out of your immediate eye line.

“ _So lost, the line had been crossed – had a voice, had a voice but I could not talk_ ”

Tears well in your eyes as your mind races with flashes of all the horrible ways you had been oppressed in life, how the men you had worked for had taken whatever they wanted _when_ they wanted.

“ _You held me down – I struggle to fly now, oh_ ”

Your nails scrape across the piano keys in harsh clicks as you bite your lip to quell the growing frustration that quivers inside you like a parasite, a leech, sucking away what little happiness you had found in life and filling it with rotten decay. Train tracks of tears streaming down your cheeks, you frown down at the piano as if it will offer some form of penance for the crimes against you. Fingers pushing the melody out faster than before, you square your shoulders and your voice echoes along the high ceilings, twisting and turning about the stone pillars that line down the gigantic ballroom in a depressing game of cat and mouse.

“ _But there’s a scream inside that we all try to hide – we hold on so tight, we cannot deny —_ ”

**_*SLAM*_ **

The bellowing echo of the ballroom door slamming shakes you from your stupor, your fingers falling to the keys with a deafening howl of mismatching notes. Lifting your head to the direction of the sound, you find no indication of anyone standing in the doorway, a chill running down your spine despite no windows or doors being open in the grand ballroom.

Shaking, you peer down the stairs.

“H-Hello?”

When no response comes, _because of course there isn’t going to be one you idiot! You’re alone in this big … giant … ballroom,_ you throw all instincts out the window and try again.

“W-Who’s th-there?”

A lone wolf howl sounds in the distance, most likely a million miles from the hotel but its enough to send your frayed nerves into overdrive. Rolling your eyes, you were getting really sick of all the scary and spooky shit that was seemingly targeting you in the hotel. Like, seriously … you felt a drop of sweat drop down the nape of your neck as your breathing seemed to grow louder in your own ears. Heart beating fast, you swallowed the fear and took one final look about the room.

“Fuck this shit - I’m out!” You mutter to yourself, standing from the bench and racing down the stairs accompanied only by the disjointed sounds of your sneakers echoing off of each marble step as you race across the golden floor. Disregarding the dusty decorations, your clammy hands reach for the intricate golden handle that would surely lead you to a less spooky fate far, far away from the horror movie you were surely trapped in now.

The handle jiggles but does not give.

“Oh, come the fuck on!” You whine, two hands twisting and pulling at the door to try and loosen it. When it finally gives, you bolt down the hallway and past the unusually vacant lobby - climbing the stairs two at a time to get back to what was quickly becoming your safe space. As you reached the third floor, you dared to look back down the hallway with a frightened glance until you slam into the deep ebony wood door.

Racing inside, you slam your back against the only guard that protected your sacred space – turning the lock and sighing.

“Fucking hell. Literally” you cant help but laugh as you slide down, your tail flickering beside you as you stare up at the ceiling. Hair tumbling around you in a curled mess, you shake your head and smile.

This place was so fucking weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for anyone who wants a good idea of what the main inspiration for the ballroom is, its 110% the mansion from the K-12 film by Melanie Martinez <3


	28. So ... The Purge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry! I've been here there and everywhere over the past week because of a major family emergency so please done hate me. 
> 
> For the next couple of weeks I will only be able to upload one chapter on a Monday and Friday - If I miss any it will be because I'm running between home and New South Wales. 
> 
> I'm hopeful that our usual schedule will be back in the next few weeks, but please bare with me for the next couple of weeks. 
> 
> Anyways, we are about three chapters out from a total shit fest so I promise there will be a rainbow at the end of this thunderstorm!! :)

“Alright everyone, listen up! We have guests arriving at 4pm. We have a few more final checks to do before we can all start getting ready” Charlie sings, hands clasped below her cheek as she addresses everyone in the lobby.

“Go ahead, Char” you nod, hands folded behind your back. You blatantly ignore the smirk adorns Alastor’s face as he takes one final stride into the room and stands beside you. It had been a slow crawl to the end of April, everyone teeming with animosity as the grand-reopening ball was rapidly approaching. After you had fled the ballroom last week, you had later returned and helped Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty and _Alastor_ put up all of the new decorations that the girls had acquired on their trip into Pentagram City.

He had seemed overwhelmingly willing to help put up all the decorations and with his help had managed to set up the ballroom in half the time as he and Charlie played a game of magical tug of war until both were somewhat satisfied with the final setup — in your own opinion it looked completely fitting as the first signs of Hells insane extremes of the burning hot or freezing cold weather began to switch.

You had been so happy to see the first snowfall, never seeing something quite so strange in all your life. The Hellish landscape was still red, but everything had been muted by the snowy sheen of white that had covered the barren trees, shrubs and sidewalks.

Angel hummed along with you; disinterest written all over his features as he picked at the tips of the pink mittens he had adorned for the colder weather.

“Okay! So, the waiters and waitresses will get here two hours before the guests. We will be greeting guests both at the door and be walking about the ballroom. Vaggie and I will handle most of the conversation about the hotel. Alastor and ( _Y/N_ ), we need the two of you to keep an eye on numbers. The tables should be able to hold all those who RSVP’d,” you just hoped that enough people turned up so that the tables didn’t look too bare “and dinner will be served at 7:30 and desert at 8:30”

When Charlie frowned, you found yourself mimicking the action as she stared down at the disengaged expressions on both Husk and Angels features.

“Please, please, please for the love of god don’t do anything stupid. We need to get as many people through these doors as we can. So, refrain from …”

“What? Bein’ ourselves?” Angel cackled.

The sour expression that adorned Charlie’s features made you crack a smile.

 _Good luck with keeping those two in line…_ you thought to yourself.

“( _Y/N_ ) … can you _please_ …?” Huffing in defeat, you nodded along with her plan.

“Keep them i _n line_? You got it boss”

“HEY! I don’t need some sorta’ _babysitta’_! _I’m a grown ass man_ ” Angel whines as he shoots you a dirty look. Cocking your brow, you cross your arms by your chest and smirk at him.

“Man- _child_ maybe” you tease, surprised by just how fast his temper explodes. Both sets of hands on his hips as one hand raises through his hair, the unconscious action being just another thing you often overlooked in the spider’s behaviour.

“Not all of us are tryin’ ta be ‘lil miss goody-two-shoes, bitch. I like ta think I’m classically predictable” puffing out his chest in the unshapely jumper that replaced his usual suit jacket and thigh high boots, he stands proud of himself. If only you had as much conviction as he did, perhaps your life would be a little less like a pinball machine on speed with all the dumb and stupid shit you had done in life and death.

“I’m afraid classical may be a bit of a stretch” Alastor mutters below the returning radio static that fills the silence of the room. You’re positive you’re the only person who had heard him and crack a smile as you turn back to Charlie.

“Everyone should be fine. I’ll keep the boys close and if anyone needs to be thrown out … well I’m pretty sure Niffty is stronger than all of us combined, so…” you hum as the smallest of your rag-tag group bounces up and down excitedly once the strangest form of praise has been bestowed onto her.

Satisfied, we break and go our separate ways. Waiting around the lobby area, you let out a quick huff as something tall and thin saunters past and knocking some of the air from your lungs.

“Hey!” Before you can say anything else, the towering figure that is Angel turns to poke his tongue out as his long strides take him a few feet ahead of you in the space of a few seconds.

“Watch ya self! Fat Nuggets!” Dropping his brows, he begins to call for the adorable piglet who was slowly becoming a shapely pig. It probably didn’t help his cause that he was fed all kinds of fucked up shit when Angel wasn’t exactly sentient…

Sighing, you turn and make your way over to Charlie and Vaggie who stand talking in hushed whispers.

“Charlie?”

She looked up and blinked quickly, her thick lashes batting as she focused on you and smiled sweetly.

“Hey, ( _Y/N_ ), what’s up?”

You fiddle with your nails, twisting your foot on the plush carpet.

“I was uh, wondering if you could help me out with my hair for tonight?”

She gasps, her hands racing to her bright pink cheeks and beams with excitement.

“Oh my goodness! YES! I have the _perfect_ hairstyle for that dress you picked out! Lemme finish up down here and I’ll run on up to your room to help out”

Thankful, you give her a quick hug and turn back over towards the staircase that Angel had disappeared up. In the distance you can hear him calling for the piglet that had seemingly gone missing somewhere in the hotel. Unlocking your door and stepping inside, you can’t help but smile at the idea of finally getting in to the emerald ballgown you had chosen a few months ago. Crossing the room and stepping inside your wardrobe, you reach up for the hanger and pull the garment from the rack – the protective bag crinkling as you lay it down on your bed.

Unzipping it, you admire the breathtaking emeralds and crystals that decorate the bodice and the upper skirts.

Smiling to yourself and making your way into the bathroom and begin to pull out all of your makeup for the evening. Once the counter is filled to the brim with neutral colours and glimmering golds alike you set to work removing your minimal makeup from earlier in the day. Somewhat satisfied with your bare skin, you begin your evening masterpiece. Adding brown shadows to your eyes and setting down a black glimmering shadow on the top of your lid. Tilting your head, you add extra shadows along your cheekbones and a spot of blush.

Picking up the sparkling highlighter that Charlie had brought back for you from the emporium, you grabbed for the small brush you had stashed away in your drawers and began to layer it in soft sweeping motions across your cheeks and the tip of your nose.

As you finished up your face and small knock sounded at the door.

“Charlie, I can’t thank you enough!”

“Psssh, nonsense! I’m always happy to help out a _friend_ ” her wide smile warms your heart.

“I honestly just don’t know what to do with my hair for the night” ushering her inside, the two of you move to the bathroom. She pulls out all sorts of hair styling equipment. In life you had mostly straightened your hair – despising the unruly curls that had plagued your childhood, so it was odd seeing so many curling irons and bobby pins.

“As someone who has lived through almost every era of fashion – I know a thing or two about high fashion hairstyles” she sorts out all the bits and pieces that she had brought along with her, summoning a golden chair for you to sit on as she begins to brush out your long tangled curls.

“That must be pretty cool though, right? Getting to see how the styles have changed over time”

She hums in response, pulling another section of hair and brushing it softly.

“I suppose. My parents loved to throw lavish and extravagant balls all the time when I was younger – mum was always playing with my hair before I moved out of the estate. I miss it sometimes” the sadness permeates her eyes, the smallest of tears welling at the corners. Smiling up at her, she nods and sniffles.

“I’m sure they’ll be really impressed with all that we have done with the hotel. With all the effort we have put in for tonight, the hotel is sure to get some new guests” you try your best to be reassuring, watching in wonder as she begins to straighten out your untamed curls. You hadn’t seen your hair straight in so long and were moderately surprised by just how long it had gotten during your time here in Hell.

A rustling behind the bathroom door catches your attention, but you don’t think much of it as you look back up to Charlie as she turns the curling iron on and begins to lay out at least one hundred bobby pins on the countertop.

“I have this dream, and I hope that everybody that walks through those doors can see it. Nobody should be cowering in fear on extermination day”

Thoughtful, you decided to ask the question about the day you had apparently fallen to Hell on.

“So, when I got here … that was the extermination day, wasn’t it?”

Meeting your gaze in the mirror, she nodded and tugged the last curl out from the iron and began to set about pulling it all up into a tall poof that sat atop your head with a thin looking teasing comb.

“Yep. To mark the new year, Heaven sends the exterminators to … _help with the overpopulation in Hell_. Its far from humane, targets the lowest forms of demons and whatever weapons are left behind by the exterminators are picked up by mercenaries that offer their services to kill anyone – at any time”

“Sounds like that shitty purge movie” you sigh. Your roommate had taken you to watch the first one, and that had been enough for you. It seemed silly that everyone would suddenly take to being a murderous psychopath for one night of the year and went back to being your average Joe the next morning.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that one…”

“Oh,” you shrug, wincing as a bobby pin pulled your hair “It wasn’t too great. Pretty much everyone going around robbing, stabbing and shooting people for one night of the year because all crime was legal”

Charlies eyes go wide for a moment, before laughing. 

“Humans are so strange – that sounds like something you’d watch down here with your morning coffee. But yes, I suppose the way we bring in the new year is with one big … _purge._ Don’t get me wrong, nobody is invincible down here – we still bleed and hurt but it’s harder to harm us. I’m sure a knife to the side stings, but it won’t kill you”

“Can … can a demon kill another demon?” hesitating, you stare down at your feet. You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but curiosity niggled at the back of your mind as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Of course, there are ways around the extermination. I’ve heard that some demons are powerful enough to consume another’s life force, whether they drain it or … ingest it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying so hard to get Angel in here as much as possible because I love him - and all I can imagine him as is some swanky Italian mobster with one hella Jersey accent :') 
> 
> Anyways, I should be back on Friday before work ~   
> I'm also going on a ghost tour in Ararat which is going to be super spoopy so I'm super excited!!!


	29. Dresscode Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the late upload, buutttttt I had to share this chapter because I love the design of this dress and how it looks in my mindbrain.   
> I'll be trying to upload a few reference images for this fic in the next chapter when I get a chance, I'll see y'all on Wednesday!

“Ingest it?”

“Yeah, you know … cannibals”

You could hear a pin drop.

“Woah, woah, woah. _What?”_ shifting uncomfortably, you frown up at the Princess of Hell.

Her eyes dart back and forth as she looks down at you.

“Well, yeah. The worst of the worst are down here, ( _Y/N_ ) … drug addicts, thieves, cultists, murderers, cannibals, _murderous cannibals_. We have them all”

“Okay so your telling me my neighbour might be Charles Manson … John Wayne Gacy or Hitler?”

“God no, Hitler is in his own little slice of hell. But I hear Jeffrey Dahmer’s cooking show is a hit”

Staring up at her with owlishly wide eyes, you scoff.

“That’s a joke … right?”

Shaking her head, you can’t help but slump right down into your chair as she builds your hair higher than you had ever deemed imaginable. Once she smiled down at her handiwork you get a good look at the magnificent masterpiece she had built atop your head. Your hair part had stayed mostly the same, your usual haphazard side fringe curled to perfection and ending with two long tendrils that barely caressed your collarbone.

Somehow, your hair defied gravity itself, each curl skillfully entwined with the next in an elegant mirage that sat neatly atop your head. With one final thin veil of hairspray and a few more bobby pins – Charlie deemed that she was done.

“I think I’ve outdone myself” she giggles as she pats down a few stray curls and crosses her arms.

“My god, Charlie! I can’t thank you enough – this looks amazing!” beaming up at her, you were truly amazed by how gorgeous the neat coils of deep purple to grey had been spun together. Your almost pristine white ears stood out like a house on fire amongst the dark roots of your hair. You had barely noticed as the weather changed, so too did your apparent fur.

You supposed being a fox demon wasn’t as bad as you originally thought.

Turning to the bathroom door, you walk back into the bedroom and frown at the ruffles in your dress that seem to move.

“What the fuck?”

“Hm, what was that?” Charlie calls from behind you as she packs up whatever supplies hadn’t been pinned or tied to your hair. Shaking your head, you cross the distance from the bathroom to your bed and reach for the shuffling mass of fabric.

Your scream rippled through the dead space of your bedroom, Charlie’s head shooting towards you as the oinking and squealing below mimicked your own voice.

Staring down as the piglet scrambled from the bed, dark eyes wide and jowls chomping down on the torn emerald fabric from the extravagant ballgown.

“ **FAT NUGGETS!** ” your fingers race to your hair, relenting as you contained the seething rage that burned throughout your being.

A thundering set of footsteps raced down the hallway, your door slamming against the wall as Angel practically ran through the wood.

“ **FAT NUGGETS?** ” he cooed, your brows pulling into a low frown.

“ ** _ANGEL DUST!_** ” your face is in flames, eyes darkening with an ultraviolet glow that you catch in your refection from the corner of your eyeline. His expression drops as he looks up at you, features lax with innocence as he snuggles the pig close.

“ _Wha-?_ ” with a tilt of his head, he stares down at you.

“ _What? **WHAT?!**_ Your fucking pig _just ate my dress_!” gesturing over to the giant hole in the middle of the dress you shake with untold amounts of fury as your tail begins to puff up and ears sink into your hair.

“Let’s all just calm down-” Charlie’s voice is drowned out by the argument before her,

“He woul’da done no such thing!” with a shake of his head, Angel cuddles the piglet closer into his suit jacket.

Pointing at the evidence right in the damned pigs’ mouth, you grind your teeth.

“What the hell is that then?” you seethe and cross your arms.

“… Kale?” discoloured eyes shifting down to the piglet and back to you, he shrugs.

“ ** _Oh!_** Sparkly Kale – that’s what it is huh?! Gods, why can’t you _ever just admit that you’re in the wrong_?!”

“Hey, hey! You’re the _dumb bitch_ who let Nuggs into your room!”

“And you’re the _imbecile_ who lost it in the first place!”

“Ohhhhkay, lets _just take a sec_ -” Charlie tries once more, stepping between you and Angel as you slowly stalk towards him, fangs growing longer as his third set of arms pops from his sides as he points a long claw into your chest.

“Oh please, that dress looked like yesta’days _garbage_ , can’t blame him for _thinking it was trash_!” he snorts, and you swear to the heavens you were ready to throw fists at this son-of-a-bitch.

“Excuse you?” you frown, and he sneers.

“ _Ya heard me_ , bitch”

“Fuck. You.”

“You’ll never get the chance”

“ _EVERYONE CALM DOWN!_ ” flames lick at your legs as Charlie turns to you both and you sink into your heels. It was hardly your fault, that little slippery piglet was always finding itself in the most precarious places – just like its owner.

“Angel Dust, apologise”

He tuts and lifts his chin in defiance, as if the two smaller demons below him are no threat at all.

“She started it!”

“And I’m ending it. Apologise. Now”

“Whatever” he huffs before turning on his heel and brushing past the curious crimson eyes that had peered in through the doorway. You began to slowly calm down, taking several deep breaths before turning to the disaster dress that was laid out on the bed.

The middle of the bust had been torn open, with the sparkling emerald skirts missing chunks out of the layered fabrics with nasty rips and uneven fraying. Your fingers balled into firsts under your chin, and you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Its ruined” voice threatening to break, yours fingers trace the hole in the front of the utterly unwearable dress.

“We can try and fix it, I’m sure Niffty has a sewing kit lying around…” the platinum blonde offers, and you sigh in defeat, catching the sob that threatened to escape your throat. 

“Charlie … we can’t possibly fix this” you bite your lip to keep the tears that threaten to spill at bay. Hugging your shoulders, you stare down at the mess on your bed.

“( _Y/N_ ) We have to try. I’d offer you something of mine, but they won’t fit and it’s not like we can just pull something out of thin air…”

“I don’t know what else to do Charlie” you sob into your palm, eyes brimming with tears.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance?” the static grates on your nerves, your light-hearted mood completely decimated in the span of a few minutes. You turn, looking up at Alastor through watering eyes.

He stands in his usual garb, microphone in hand as he steps into the room with a small nod from you. He peers down at the mess on the bed, long claws stroking his chin before clicking.

“Ah! I have just the thing, my dear!” smiling down at you with that Cheshire grin of his, his brow quirks as his cane twirls within his grasp before disappearing in a puff of smoke and black tendrils.

Your pale eyes drop to your shirt, the golden button up blouse you had donned in the morning had apparently struck some sort of inspiring chord with The Radio Demon. Charlie stood behind you; her eyes wide in genuine curiosity.

Glancing up at him, you sniffle.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you became some _sick fairy-godmother_ , Al” you tease, and he chuckles darkly before stretching his joints with an extravagant flourish of his long limbs.

“My, well what can I say? At the Hazbin Hotel – We aim to please!” you’d never admit it, but you found that transatlantic accent and old timey way of talking incredibly endearing. With a quirk of his brow, his finger twirled around the top of your head, and you stare down as what was once a shimmering button up began to twist and morph into a completely different material – similar to what had happened on your first day at the hotel.

Long golden feathers dipped low down your abdomen and chest, your long sleeves shrinking to a symmetrical pair that sat comfortably below your shoulders. The feathers seemed to flair out at your hips, acting as a tight corset as a wide hoop skirt formed around your waist. As the hoop settled, the skirt you had been wearing lengthened to a golden sheer underskirt, your fingers skimming across the golden satin that fall in delicate waves.

Gazing up in awe, you couldn’t help the questioning smile that you shot at him as he shrugged his shoulders.

For someone who had a general distaste for the changing times, the dress he had concocted out of thin air was incredibly modern – like many of the items in your wardrobe.

Gasping, the shimmering gold of the sewn in gemstones and jewels caught on each fragment of light – each individual gem multiplying the further down the dress your eyes had travelled. Your feet had become encased in delicate heels, the straps covered in the same shining gemstones that adorned the dress you had worn. Surprisingly your knees stood exposed to the outside air, with the dress dropping into the wide ballgown that trailed just long enough to flourish on to the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

Beaming up in unadulterated joy and appreciation, you broke one of the biggest rules you knew Alastor had.

You hugged him.

“Thankyou! Thankyou so much!” your arms wrapped around his sallow figure, eyes squeezing shut as you prepared for him to push you off and flip the same way he had when others had invaded his usual 5-foot rule.

Surprise gripped you as his arms wrapped back around you, an awkward pat on your back as you stood in the strangest embrace you had been in for what seemed your whole life and after life.

Pulling back, you smiled wide at Charlie who seemed taken aback by the Radio Demon’s generosity.

Frowning to herself, her hands fell to her side and she sighed.

“Welp, I suppose I should go and make sure Vaggie is okay. And go check up on Angel, so… I’llseeyouguysdownthere,bye!” she raced for the open door, skidding around the corner as she took her leave.

“She seems to be in quite the hurry” Alastor hums to himself, that blasted microphone reappearing in his grasp as he stepped back with narrow eyes gleaming with that usual contemplative look that you were slowly coming to recognise as an expression he did not let many people see. Turning to you, he held his arm out and beamed down as he took your hand.

“Well, now that this catastrophe has been taken care of, I must depart”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you down in the ballroom then?” crossing your arms by your chest, you can’t help but roll your eyes as he slowly slinks towards the door.

“Why of course!” he grinned as he took his leave, long claws grabbing for the door handle and stepping past the threshold, “And may I saw … you look absolutely ravishing, darling”

With a sly wink and a low chuckle, he closes the door with a soft click leaving you rather confused with wide and owlish eyes as you stood staring at the space he had last occupied for far longer than you wished to admit.


	30. Warm Welcome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA! I am alive and I am so glad to say that I’m back for good~   
> I hope y’all enjoy this double upload :)

The lobby was alight with joyous chatter, demons of all shapes and sizes shuffling in through the open doors. Your eyes danced about the room as you took in the silky satins, vibrant velvets and fluffy feathers that adorned each of the patrons that had dressed to impress for the grand reopening of the Hotel.

A sense of pride began to swell in your chest as you peered down the grand staircase at the spectacle before you, smiling as each of the demons began to follow the symphonies down the hallway and slowly make their way into the extravagant ballroom in the belly of the Hotel.

Charlie was never going to stop talking about tonight, and dear god you couldn’t blame her.

“My, my. Don’t you look particularly _delectable_ , my dear” the voice roused you from your thoughts, eyes darting to your left and upwards where Alastor stood smiling down at you.

Shooting him a smile and grabbing for the golden skirt that hung around your hips, you ruffled the material and shrugged.

“Oh, this old thing?”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his crimson eyes fell upon your bared neck, a questioning quirk in your brow had his index finger and thumb stroking his chin in quiet contemplation.

“What?”

“Something seems to be missing … but whatever could it be?”

“I dunno” you shrug, letting the skirts go to cross your arms over your chest. His long fingers click and you couldn’t almost see the proverbial lightbulb flash above his head.

“Ah! I have it!” reaching behind his back and pulling his arms around once more, a red velvet box now sitting in his once empty hands.

_How does he do that…_

“For you, _my dear_ ”

“…Alastor. I swear to god if there is an eyeball in here, I will scream SO LOUD -”

“- You have my word as a gentleman, it is not an eyeball” he chuckles, hand to the space where his heart would have been, and watches with wide eyes as you take the box from his outstretched hand.

Sceptical, you peered up at him with narrowed eyes. When you were satisfied that he wouldn’t be gifting you some morbid and grotesque thingamabob, you slowly open the red velvet box and stare down with wide eyes and a slack jaw at what was contained within.

Nestled amongst black sands – _which god knows was strange enough –_ was the blackest pearl you had seen in your entire life. As the lights bounced off of what seemed to be three of four peals melded together, your eyes couldn’t help but admire the deep greens and iridescent purples that stared back at you. Reaching forwards, your fingernails pinched the golden chain that was anchored into the pearls, holding it up into the light. Your stomach dropped.

The dress had been enough, it had saved you from a catastrophe and was truly beautiful. But this was too much.

“Al-” at a loss for words, you stared up at him.

His overjoyed expression only intensified as you shook your head with an unsure glint in your eye.

“Alastor, I can’t – _I can’t accept this_ ”

“Nonsense! Take it as a token of my appreciation for all the hard work you’ve done over your time in Hell!”

“No, I can’t. This is too much” you protest, trying to put the pearls back into the box and hand it back to him. His smile only widens as he takes the pearl necklace from your grasp and requests that you turn. Frowning, you comply with his request and twist your fingers together in discomfort at the generosity.

“I am afraid _I must insist_ , darling” he hums as he drops the peal over your towering hair and drapes it around your neck, clasping it and slinking back around to face you.

You quirk your brow and look up at him, unsure of where this goodwill is coming from.

“Why?”

“Why. _Why?”_ he tests the words on his lips, and tilts his head with a contemplating hum, “Why, because without your help this little soiree would never have gone ahead, and I wouldn’t have an _endless source of entertainment_! Ha, ha, ha!” his shoulders shook as the radio static danced and intertwined with his words.

“ _Aaaaand there it is_. You still don’t really believe in Charlies cause, _do you_?” shaking your head, you step forwards and poke his chest, watching his eyes dart down to your long nails and back to your own crystalline orbs.

“You’ll find that some sinners are far past redemption, dear” he shrugs, turning and offering you his hand. Reluctant, you take it and turn to your inner thoughts as the two of you descend the stairs and follow the crowd into the ballroom.

Confusion overtakes you as you recall the rare moments yourself and Alastor had shared. Surely, he wasn’t all bad, the two of you playing the piano together, the strange gifting of the journal, and twisting and changing your dress for the grand reopening ball.

The ringing sounds of trumpets, saxophones, piano keys and drums pulled you from your inner turmoil as the two of you stepped through the ornate golden doors into the ballroom. Your eyes looked up in wonder at the glass spires, glistening baubles and crystal snowflakes that hung alongside silver ringlet streamers that, when caught in the light at the right angle, refracted miniature rainbows.

Turning to Alastor, you frowned.

“You seem to be at quite a loss for words” Alastor lifted his chin with that cocky grin of his as he nods to a few of the demons who pass by – seemingly not knowing who they had just smiled at as they chattered about the décor and music. It had been one thing to put it all together, but to see actual demons walking in and around the hotel … you were at a complete loss.

“Its just … this looks amazing!” turning towards the stage, your eyes catch sight of the mousey demon who twirls about the makeshift stage the piano had sat on a few weeks before, her dark eyes lighting up at she began to sing with a strangely seductive tone to her voice.

“ _I just want you here, Like it was 1941 - Play that silky tune, and let me show you how to love -_ ”

The shadowy figures behind her strummed their instruments, mouths wide and gaping with wicked smiles as their long black fingers strummed the golden instruments before them.

You stepped further into the ballroom, followed closely by Alastor, and nodded to the endless onslaught of demons that surrounded you.

“ _I can't get enough, well why don’t you show me how to swing? –_ ”

You were surprised as you stepped through the crowd to see a few of the demons dancing in some sort of cleared out dancefloor on the golden marble, their bodies twisting and twirling around as the woman sashayed around the stage.

“ _Music turning up, Follow the beat and let it ring - Follow the beat... Follow the beat and let it ring_ ”

A looming shadow pulled your eyes away from the enigmatic little demoness on the stage, your eyes trailing up the red flowing skirts until you reach a concealed collarbone and the darkest eyes you had ever seen.

“My, my. And to think I almost _didn’t believe_ them when they told me the _famous Radio Demon_ was at the helm of this little … _vain attempt of redeeming sinners_ ”

Glancing up at Alastor, you saw his _Cheshire grin widen substantially_ as his hand twisted behind his back in a low bow. The woman with eyes as dark as the universe itself shooed the gesture away as he stood to his full height, _dwarfing_ you by a mile and placing himself just a few inches taller than the woman.

“It seems considerable length of time has passed since our last encounter, _Rosie_ ”

“Always the _gentlemen, Alastor_. And who might this be?” her head tilted in your direction, a fear that had laid dormant within you _leaping to life_ as you cringed backwards, unnerved to say the least as her endless eyes turned to you.

You opened your mouth to respond, only to feel the sharp claws grasping at your shoulders – Alastor leaning in close around you to cut off your response.

“I’m-”

“Nobody who should concern an overlord such as yourself, Rosie” your stomach dropped as the static in his voice did, becoming uncharacteristically clear as his tone dropped. Skin crawling, you took the hint to keep your mouth shut and simply stared up at the woman who Alastor had offhandedly referred to as ‘Rosie’.

Come to think of it, Charlie had mentioned her in passing the week before – something about an emporium that she had owned. Looking up into those soulless eyes, you had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t want to be on her bad side.

“Such a shame, you know I do so love adding to my little … collection” sighing with a sickening fang filled grin, her thin brows pull in a contemplating expression that sends a chill down your spine – the feeling having nothing to do with the colder weather outside.

“You’ll have to excuse me, dear” Alastor grabs your attention once more, offering you a short bow before turning and animatedly leading the towering woman anywhere but close to you.

You’d never admit just how much seeing him turn his back and leave with someone else left a strange gaping hole in your stomach.

Shaking yourself out of the weird funk you had found yourself in, you grabbed a fistful of your golden skirts and turned to find the rest of the employees. You had, after all, promised Charlie you would keep them all in check.

“ _I'll bring the Cadillac if you bring the Rum, I wanna party like its 1941_ ”

Spying Husker with a not so subtle flask leaning up against one of the white marble pillars, head tipped back in an attempt to consume the entirety of the liquid in the metal container. Beside him, Niffty bounced about happily, her usual poodle skirt replaced with something even more fitting.

The dress complimented her miniature frame with a divine elegance, a splash of red and pink embroidered flowers following up her skirts and towards the sleeveless bust, her slender yellowish arms turning black just below the shoulder. Her usual spiked hair now sat in soft waves by her cheeks, a soft pink carnation pinned against her left ear leaving her orange eye hair free.

Upon seeing you, she beamed.

“( _Y/N_ )! You look sooooooo good! But, what happened to your dress?” she zips around you, inspecting the golden ruffles of your dress.

“Had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction” you sigh, watching as she nods along and scrutinises the glimmering golds and shimmering diamonds with a keen eye. Humming to herself, she seemed satisfied with the handiwork and began to look about the ballroom.

A grunt sounded beside you, drawing your attention back once again.

“I normally don’t give a shit, but I will say this… okay … I’ll say you don’t make me wanna throw up”

Staring at the cat demon, you tilt your head in confusion.

“What?”

He shrugs and takes a long drink before frowning at you.

“Shut up” he grumbles, and you barely contain the small laugh that escapes your lips. You toss up between giving him shit for the strangely spaced sentiment or dropping it, deciding on the latter. Turning back around you scan the crowds and nod at the waiter who approached your small huddle.

“Has anyone seen Charlie or Vaggie?” You ask, grabbing a champagne flute from a dark tray as it passes by. You’re unsurprised when you sip the drink, the bubbles somewhat flat but too gassy at the same time. Grimacing you look around the ballroom and past the patrons in search of your friends.

“Welcome everyone!”

As if your words had summoned them, your eyes shot to the entryway above the stairs where Charlie stood, her warm eyes staring down as everyone turned to meet her gaze.

“To the Grand Opening of the Hazbin Hotel!”


	31. Upside Down (ALASTOR POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, part two :)

_“Welcome everyone, to the Grand Opening of the Hazbin Hotel!” The Princess of Hell’s voice echoed through the hall as if a bell grating against a snow plough. He stood with his back to the crowd, mind ticking as his dear Rosie chattered away about the drab decorating in the Hotel’s ballroom._

_He could barely contribute, only aiding the futile effort to impress the guests in an effort to provoke a reaction from that little assistant of his. He found it mildly humorous the way the little fox’s eyes would go wide as his shadow played with the locks on the doors or hid in the hallways._

_What could he say? After a lifetime of boredom he found himself in quite the conundrum whenever it came to mysterious vixen._

_“-know of a few advisories that could disappear in this little Hotel of yours” Rosie smirked, raising the teacup to her lips and downing the gin in one quick gulp. He had barely been listening, but turned his head back to the dark eyed demon – ears perking back up as she grinned widely._

_“My dear, aside from one little silly serpent, our usual riffraff seem to be unusually quiet” he offhandedly gestures to nothing in particular, Rosies brows pull into a low frown._

_“And I’m to presume those bodies being found torn to pieces in the dark alleys around Pentagram City are some other murderous cannibals doing?” Flashing her pointed fangs, she leaned across the table with those long skeletal fingers of her laced together._

_“I’m afraid you’d be barking up the wrong proverbial tree, Rosie” chuckling darkly, he picks a tall flute of champagne from the waitress who passes, pausing for a moment before snapping his fingers and watching with a bored expression as the bubbling yellow turned a devilishly Devine shade of bright red. Swishing the blood about the glass, he takes a sip before placing it back down._

_“We would like to thank everyone for attending tonight, to commemorate this wonderful occasion, we invite you to eat and drink your fill - dance the night away!” The Princess’ voice carried out once again before handing the attention back to the short tempered woman he considered a dear friend, Mimzy._

_“My Alastor, you cease to change with the times” she scolds as he glances back over to the staircase where that little mouse of his struck up her devilish shadow band and began playing that which he and she would have danced to back in his early days of Hell._

_“It appears not. Have you, by chance, forgotten how it was that we rose to power – my dear?” Turning back to the thin woman, she smiled wide._

_“Hardly. Neither of us possess that thing your little pet seems to…” she chuckles, taking another sip from her teacup._

_Raising his brow, Alastor silently questions her._

_“A conscience, dear. You and I are cut from the same cloth, Alastor. Neither of us possesses the capacity for mercy” shaking her head, she turns to her cup and silently sips the potent gin that was left within the inconspicuous teacup._

_Rosie had been an overload for almost as long as Alastor had been, two two of them rising to power as he toppled those above him. He had done it with malicious intent, devouring those who stood in his way until he had secured a place for himself amongst the worst of the worst … until he himself had become one of the merciless overlords of Hell._

_So what we he doing entertaining this fantasy here at the Princess’ hotel?_

_He was yet to find an answer that satisfied his curiosity._

_Humming, the crowd seemed to part enough for him to spy the little fox across the ballroom, the gems and glistening gold catching in the light but being outshone by the strange aura she seemed to cast, those crystalline eyes which contrasted his own searching the room before the soft smile graced her dark lips. His eyes narrowed as he watched on, the vulpini pulling the princess into a tight hug, the idea of pulling one in so close sparking discomfort in his muscles._

_“You never did tell me whatever in the nine circles drove you to leave that fabulous estate of yours and shack up here with that … princess and her rampant rejects” her laughter pulled him back from the inner workings of his mind. He watched as she hailed another waiter who replaced the empty teacup with one filled with more gin, eyeing the crimson skinned fellow who scampered off – eyes wide with fear._

_Shaking himself out of whatever strange mood he had found himself in, he relished in the apparent fear he and she had struck in the poor sod with just their presence. Perhaps it had been the thick and iron smelling liquid that the waiter had seen which had tipped the_

_“Ha, ha, ha! Why, to better our wonderful society of sinners, dear Rosie” with a flourish of his hands, the static clinging to his voice as he grinned at her, she shook her head._

_“You might have that little prissy princess fooled, but I can see a lie before its been told. Surely you do not support this maddening idea of redemption, Alastor?”_

_“Of course not. Not a single soul here will be ascending past those pearly gates” He chuckled, adjusting his monocle._

_The static in his voice shuffled through stations, the words ‘hopeless’ and ‘sinners’ echoing around him as he leaned into the table and sipped the still warm blood from his flute._

_“At least whilst you are here” Rosies soulless eyes narrowed past the rim of the teacup, that wicked smile upon her lips once again, “perhaps hunting is getting to be too boring for someone of your … talents. I can hardly blame you, those who wind up here these days are quite drab”_

_“Indeed, my dear Rosie! One grows bored of the daily grind – why, here in this hotel there is endless entertainment to cure that positively depressing demeanour one finds themselves in” chuckling, he shifted from foot to foot, casually glancing back to where the princess of Hell (and by proximity alone, his little assistant) stood talking animatedly with some tall figure in red._

_Growing bored with the conversation with Rosie, he summoned his shadow with the click of his dress shoe – sending the silent command for it to hover about the group and surveil the conversation. Rolling his eyes, he smiled wide at Rosie as she raved about matters which cared little to him._

_The lights above dimmed as a lone spotlight drew down onto the makeshift stage he and his constituents had set up, the vocal stylings of Mimzy drawing everyone’s attention no matter where they had been in the ballroom._

_The upbeat swing of her voice was something he had admittedly admired about the smaller woman, her moxie and attitude foraging the strange bonds of mild appreciation for each other. He wouldn’t go as far as to call the feisty woman a friend, but often dropped by her little club whenever he was traveling within the inner city._

_Growing bored of whatever it was the Rosie had begun to converse about, he followed his shadow as it slinked across the ballroom floor – hiding in the ballgowns and shadows of those bickered, drank and danced._

_The shadow swept across the floor to the far end of the ballroom where the staff and effeminate spider stood chattering._

_“_ Rise and shine little darlin’ – the bank has yet to close”

_The trumpets sounded, the drums beating in the air as the little noise danced about the stage, red tassels flowing with each movement._

_His shadow curled around the legs of the delicate table in which the little fox had sat. With a curious gaze, it stares up at the woman and listens intently to the conversation between those on the table._

_“And whatever would a beautiful young woman like yourself be doing here all alone?” A masculine voice asked, the shadow seething back and practically hissing at the approaching footsteps. The little fox peered up, eyes cautious of the stranger._

_“Enjoying the ambiance?” With a sour bite in her voice, the strange chuckled darkly._

_“Quite the ambiance. How rude of me, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself … Bumby. Arthur Bumby. And what name did they gift the beautiful woman before me?” The stranger leaned down, grasping the fox’s hand with a formal grip — raising the pale skinned wrist to his lips and planting a soft kiss upon her knuckles._

_The shadow seethed as the fox’s shoulder shook with laughter._

_“(_ Y/N _)”_

_The stranger, Mr Bumby, raised a brow._

_“Just (_ Y/N _)? Quite a fitting name for such a fetching dame like yourself. Do tell me, dear (_ Y/N _), whatever brings you to a place like this?” Grabbing for the seat behind the fox, the man took a seat without much invitation – a quality Alastor found upmost abhorrent if he were to be honest._

_Smile dropping a mere fraction, he watched on as a boiling sensation filled his fingertips._

_“_ The jazz is giving you bedroom eyes, and I gotta say no, no, no _”_

_For you should never planned a murder aloud._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wouldn’t happen to be getting a bit jealous there, would you Alastor? ;)


	32. Cheshire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, these wonderful characters belong to Vivziepop!
> 
> There are a few OC’s popping up in here now, and there are plenty more to come :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offt, she’s a little late but I just adore how this chapter turned out. You can be sure that this isn’t the last we see of this Bumby fellow ;) 
> 
> For those of you wondering, Angus Bumby is a business tycoon who screwed over his associates with multiple aliases. He was responsible for cheating business partners out of thousands with his quick swindling tactics and landed himself a one way ticket to Hell sometime in the 1960’s. In life, he was one of those charismatic salesmen who had those horrible fake teeth that were just too big for his mouth... also a bit of a misogynistic pig, but we wont get into that just yet. 
> 
> If anyone can guess what the title is related to (in terms of this wonderful assholes story) you win 10 points for your Hogwarts House!

“Just (Y/N)? Quite a fitting name for such a fetching dame like yourself. Do tell me, dear (Y/N), whatever brings you to a place like this?” He took a seat before you, leaving you little room to protest as he leaned against the backing of the ornate wood.

“I actually work here” nodding along to the music that twisted and danced in the air above, your defences shoot up. Working in the industry you had thrust yourself into in life – you had learned to be sceptical of almost every Tom, Dick, and Harry who had thought they were entitled to something from you based solely on your profession. Whilst this … Mr Bumby hadn’t made much of a move, you were still on high alert.

“How interesting that must be! You must see the loosest screws coming through those doors, ha ha ha” his laugh seems to stick to you in _broken purrs_ that tingle down your spine, making your shoulders crunch in discomfort.

“Funnily enough, our … primary guest isn’t all that bad”

“Oh yes, that Angel Dust fellow! Someone of his … caliber must keep the staff on their toes. Or does it keep him on his knees?”

Laughing at his own sick sort of joke, you grit your teeth slightly as his seat scrapes across the marble and – unsurprisingly closer to you. Angel wasn’t your favourite person in the hotel but this jackass didn’t get the right to say that shit about someone you considered close enough to be a borderline friend.

“I must say, the notion of redemption seems somewhat laughable – in a place like this. I find it awfully hard to conceive a valid explanation for why someone as absolutely delightful as yourself is in a hotel with such a foolhardy cause” he wiggles his brows, and props his elbow on the table.

Dear god, he was man-spreading.

You had been around enough egotistical men to know a show of dominance when it arose.

Clearing your throat, you cross your arms by your chest and straighten your back in the chair.

_Fuck you, buddy._

That shit didn’t work well with you.

“I for one, think that redemption in a place like this is utterly admirable. Who’s to say someone _cant change their ways_ when given the _right ultimatum_. With a shitty mindset like that, eventual doom when the next extermination comes around seems inevitable” you shake your head with narrowed eyes, light streams of hair falling by your cheeks as flames licked at your skin.

He seemed ecstatic with your response, golden eyes alight with curiosity as he leaned in once more and gazed deep into your eyes.

 _“_ How fascinating. What an interesting take on the idea. _Might I ask you to dance?”_ The man, Mister Bumby had asked, leaning closer from his chair with a questioning glint in his glistening golden eyes. You frowned as you moved backwards in the chair, brushing the question off with a quick laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“Do you go around asking every girl you’ve just met that question?”

“I find I rarely ask in a place such as this” He chuckles, and leans back once again gesturing widely to the ballroom around the two of you. You hum, frowning up at him.

What an odd change in conversational pace.

“Oh, so you _frequent balls often_? And here I was thinking they weren’t common place in Hell” you cant help but roll your eyes as you feel something tug at your ankle. Glancing down for a moment, _you’re sure_ you see a dark _shadow_ gnawing above the strap of your shoes. The moment you spot it, it seems to blink out of existence as if it were never there.

Shaking your head, you glance back up at the man before you who fiddles with a frayed edge of his dazzling grey suit, that charming smile of his shining in the candlelight which filled the grand ballroom.

You weren’t falling for it.

If working for Alastor had taught you anything – it was to never trust a cocky salesman – which this asshole seemed to be a spitting image of.

“In Hell? Why no, not at all. It seems everyone _down here_ is more into _stabbing and flaying_ their neighbours – as I’m _sure the princess_ is well aware of seeing as she is trying to cure that particular … vice” his dark eyes flash towards you, a nonchalant head tilt as he examines your expressions. Guarding yourself, you cross your arms and ankles.

“Ah, so where does that leave you?” Nails scratching along your arms, he wastes no time with his quick response.

“Under normal circumstances a gentleman never reveals his secrets, but hows about you and me make a little … deal?” He leans forwards, over the back of the chair and grins up at you with a _Cheshire smile._

Another tug on your ankle draws your attention away for a moment, scowling down at the blink of a shadow that disappears once again. Staring back up at the man again, you tilt your head and regard him with a quirk in your brow.

“Unfortunately I’m _incredibly cautious_ whenever it comes to deals and deal making” your mind wanders to the first time you had seen Alastor attempt to make a deal with Charlie, with Vaggie’s skepticism and insistence on never making a deal with anyone – especially Alastor - struck a chord with you.

He seems to shake his head, as if the notion of refusing his deals is somewhat abhorrent to him. Leaning in closer, elbows bent into his knees, you watch as his eyes go wide before shifting to the space behind you. Your skin seems to tingle with static, and you have – for the first time in your afterlife – never felt so glad to have the Radio Demon at your back.

“My dear, is this cretin bothering you?” His comically dark tone grates across your skin, eyes glancing over your shoulder to the crimson clad demon. You’d never felt sorry for anyone in Hell, but this poor sod before you seemed to be in some hot water as the narrow eyed stare and threatening grin beamed down at him.

Shrugging, you looked back to Mr. Bumby – who seemed to have curled into himself by a minute fraction.

“I was just telling this wonderful gentlemen that I don’t make deals with strangers” shuffling in the seat, you feel the reassuring graze of his claws along your shoulder blade.

“Ha, ha, ha! I see I have taught you well, my dear. I should request that you vacate this table immediately as we don’t take too kindly to _feral felines_ around these parts” his voice rises and dips with the music, the chipper overtone filled with malicious intent. You had never seen someone stand and race away from you with such a ferocious speed.

A quiet laugh escaped your perfectly painted lips. 

You glance up to Alastor and watch as his smile softened, but stayed quite strained for his standards.

“Hey, um… thanks. That guy wasn’t letting up anytime soon” you think for a moment, before placing your pale hand upon his and give it an awkward pat.

As if that pushed him too far, he removed his hand and tucked it in behind his back and cleared his throat.

“Why, it is my pleasure! We cannot have _my_ favourite employee feeling uncomfortable in their own home, now can we?” He tuts his tongue behind those razor sharp teeth of his, fingers clicking before him as he summons that blasted talking microphone cane of his from thin air before tapping it to the floor.

You almost pull him up on the quick comment, but decide to drop it with a frown as you recall his rather quick absence earlier in the evening.

“So, what’d your tall lady friend want?”

“Nothing you should worry yourself about, my dear. _A simple business trifle is all_. Now, hows about we get some food onto everyone’s plates and enjoy this evening?” You stare up at him, sceptical as he moves away in a smooth flurry of hand gestures before disappearing into the kitchens.

Frowning down at the table you now sat alone at, you sigh.

This ball was about everyone getting together, not being as spread across the ballroom as physically possible. Glancing around the room, you spied your constituents.

Angel was borderline laying across the bar with a martini glass in both sets of his hands.

He was obviously there to annoy Husk, who stood with a large bottle between his paws taking frequent and long drinks from the dark glass whilst fending off Angels advances.

Niffty practically zipped from pillar to pillar, her eye darting around in search of any stray spec of dust that dared to enter the ballroom.

Charlie and Vaggie stood at the base of the stairs chatting with various demons of all shapes and sizes with animated and over the top expressions and hand movements. Vaggie’s eye locked onto yours for a moment, a soft smile on her lips before turning back up to Charlie as she continued to enthuse everyone about her mission.

Kicking the floor with your heel, you fiddle with the napkin that sat below the cutlery set. Before you could get too deep into your thoughts, a tap on your shoulder broke your unfocused gaze.

A thin Mousey looking demon chirped from behind you, her dark eyes rolling as you shifted backwards and let her place the plate of food before you.

“Um, thanks” you murmur as she turns away, surprised as the table begins to fill up with once again. Husk grumbles down at the bone riddled fish before him, Angel seems over the moon with the flaming chicken he had received, claiming it looked like some sort of dinosaur shape, Niffty seemed less than pleased to be sitting still for longer than a minute – poking the mountain of vegetables before her with a sour expression.

You had ended up with a steak, that you were sure was still twitching.

“Whatever seems to be the problem, _my dear_?” the Radio Demon’s voice caresses your ears, sending them flat against your skull as you look over to his plate that seems to have an incredibly normal looking salad inside the black porcelain.

“Swapsies?” Grinning up and somewhat hopeful, he chuckles down at you.

“However could I say no to such a beguiling creature like yourself? Luckily for you, _I prefer my steak rather blue_ ” his long claw drags your plate across the table and you grasp the fork to your left.

Stabbing into the leafy reds and browns, you stop short of your mouth and glare up at him.

“Please tell me there are no eyeballs in this salad” the leaves sit just shy of your mouth, with your cerulean eyes narrowed in distrust.

“Well, not in the salad…”

A loud spitting of food from across the table sends your head snapping across the table as Angel scrapes his tongue with his napkin.

Mismatched eyes glaring across the table, Angel Dust digs his claws into the wooden table and scowls across the circular table where yourself and Alastor sit.

“You SICK FUCK!” He hisses, caring not for the demons who watched on with amused expressions and quiet laughter. Alastor seems to contain most of his laughter as those sharp teeth of his dig into his lip, static playing in the air around him as _the captive audience_ he kept in his _eternal_ company filled the air around the table.

You roll your eyes as Angel begins to throw all sorts of insults, some you yourself never hearing until this very moment before everyone settles into the dinner and drinks – Charlie’s warm smile beaming the entire time as she digs into the somewhat charred steak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - I do apologise for the incredibly random uploads. My life is everywhere at the moment and between interstate travels and work I’ve barely had any free time to write. 
> 
> Rest assured, I know exactly where the story is going and ho boy - we are in for a ride!
> 
> Thankyou so much for being patient and sticking around, your support and lovely comments are what’s really keeping me going during this crazy year. I’ll be back on Monday with a double upload (I pinky swear!!) and then again on Friday with another double upload. 
> 
> We’re almost in ‘overlords who loathe each other’ territory... so stay tuned :D


	33. Bird Set Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didnt have the heart to split this into a two parter ... so have one abnormally long chapter :) 
> 
> The song here is actually the title of the chapter too;  
> Bird Set Free - by SIA <3 
> 
> This song is amazing, and it was so fitting for this scene (I wont lie, I had been basing a lot of the ballroom scene off of this song and couldn't wait to use it - It’s well worth a listen to if you aren’t familiar with it, and it puts a little bit of our wonderful reader’s backstory in to context)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm y’all are insane! I CANNOT BELIEVE that we’ve gotten over 600 kudo’s and 10’000 hits!  
> This is crazy, I actually cannot even deal right now ~
> 
> Thankyou so much to everyone who has been kind enough to like, comment and bookmark this fic. I never in a million years thought anyone would read this - let alone like it. So from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank every and every one of you for sticking around to see where this crazy rollercoaster takes us while we wait for episode 2 to air 
> 
> Ilysm - Silver_Moonlight :D

“Oh my god you have to!” She had sung, hands clasped below her cheek as she practically _bounced_ on the tips of her toes.

You had no idea how you had let Charlie talk you in to doing this _utterly ridiculous_ thing.

Rolling your eyes and waiting on the stairs beside the stage, you gulped down your fears.

Standing as still as a statue, your feet refused to move an inch closer to the microphone. Shaking your head slightly, you clenched your hands in fists. Charlie smiled widely, razor teeth flashing for a moment as her dark eyes crinkled at the edges.

A gentle nudge on your shoulder forced your bright sapphire eyes towards the wispy shadow that curled around your ankles. Hissing at the _absolute ludicrousness_ of whatever hellish situation you had been thrust in to, the shadow nudged you once again and began to nip at your flesh. Kicking it away, Charlie blinked up at you with glimmering puppy dog eyes.

“ _Come on!_ ” She whispered, nodding in that reassuring way that Charlie did. Somehow, you had little doubt that she could convince even the most stubborn demon to get their shit together and bow to her every whim.

“Not a fucking chance” frowning at the microphone like the damned thing would burn you at the slightest touch, whatever food you had consumed for dinner had began to churn in your innards.

_No way in hell would you be caught undead with that microphone in your hands._

Charlie would just have to learn how to lose.

Barely convinced, you stared down at the steep stairs at the endless horde of demons and demoness’ that blinked up at you – some with callous expressions, confused or bored stares and deep frowns with wide smiles. Whatever breath you had taken became frozen in your throat.

Eyes wide, you spied a familiar crimson.

Cerulean eyes narrowing in frustration, you wished the bastard would burst into spontaneous and eternal hellfire. That jackass was the _reason you were up here_ in the first place.

You shook your head with the slightest motion, to which Alastor only smiled and twirled his cane between his fingers. Huffing our a quick breath of frustration, you rolled your eyes and stared back at Charlie, who nodded enthusiastically. A nudge on your back sent you stumbling forwards against your will, her strong hands catching you before an unfortunate tumble down the final step.

“Charlie… I don’t know if I can…” you repeated yourself. Alastor had casually mentioned how he had heard you singing in passing, mentioning how ‘ _delightfully entertaining_ ’ it was.

As soon as that sickening smile of his stretched across that face, your stomach sank.

“Oh come on, its not like you’re up here alone. Razzle and Dazzle are here! Pleeeeeease?” Her soft plead and comforting pat on the back made your insides seethe with quiet rage.

She wasn’t about to let up and dear god, she was one persistent demoness.

Nodding towards her, your eyes grew wide as her long pale fingers grabbed for your shoulders and shook you slightly – moments away from practically exploding. Heels clicking across the marble slate, Charlie grabbed for the mic stand and cheerily addressed the impromptu audience.

“While the lovely Mimzy has a bit of a break, it is my honour to present my wonderful _friend,_ (Y/N)!”

Shrinking down into your dress slightly, a hand awkwardly waved at the crowd below before returning behind your back and clutching your digits together – cold and nervous sweat seeping between them as a dozen butterflies worth of stage fright overtook your being.

Coughing sounded in the back of the room, followed by some dark grey skinned demon calling out;

_“Get on with it already!”_

Blinking quick, you cleared your throat and whispered a few quick words to Razzle, who sat behind the piano. The little goat seemed to yelp at the shadows on the stage who sat behind a strange looking drumming, bass guitar and a dark wooden cello. Nodding together, the small succubus ushered you to the piano and made room for you to sit at the bench.

Inhaling and steadying your nerves, your fingers rested on the keys.

The small goat stared up and shot you a teethe smile.

 _Charlie was about to make you eat your fucking words._

“Here we fuckin’ go….” Sighing, you press down.

The melody fills the air as your eyes close and your lips part.

“ _Clipped wings, I was a broken thing - Had a voice, had a voice but I could not sing_ ”

Fingers skating across the lower keys and eyes opening to make sure the little goat was watching closely, you were almost surprised to find it was playing along with you in a slightly lower key – mirroring each action perfectly.

“ _You would wind me down - I struggled on the ground, oh_ ”

The shadows behind you began to play low frequency beats to each word that danced across your lips, each bell toned spark igniting a glorious fire in your belly that quickly consumed the butterflies within.

“ _So lost, the line had been crossed - Had a voice, had a voice but I could not talk”_

Breathing deep, you smiled at Razzle, a lone tear cascading down your cheek as your fingers skirted along the ivories. A hand raises to your cheek to wipe the stray tear away as your voice broke,

“ _You held me down - I struggle to fly now, oh_ ”

Quick drums matched the rhythm of your heart beating in your chest as it seemed to skip every second beat as it thundered in your ears.

“ _But there's a scream inside that we all try to hide - We hold on so tight, we cannot deny_ ”

Looking over, Charlie stands gobsmacked – something you wish you could have captured because you were damned sure that it was the first and only time you had ever seen her this quiet and contained.

“ _Eats us alive, oh it eats us alive, oh - Yes, there's a scream inside that we all try to hide_ ”

Pushing down on the keys, a bit louder than you needed to and sliding out from the bench – feet carrying you over to where Charlie stood with her jaw to the floor.

“ _We hold on so tight, but I don't wanna die, no - I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, yeah_ ”

You grabbed for her hand, holding it tight as your voice bellowed across the crowd, low murmurs coming from the depths of the horde.

“ _And I don't care if I sing off key - I find myself in my melodies_ ”

Razzle and Dazzle poured their little hearts out into the piano, both beaming up in pride as they mirrored the melody you had worked so hard on. A weird smile on your lips as you passed the succubi, an odd able forked tongue sticking out from between its straight edged smile.

“ _I sing for love, I sing for_ ME _\- I shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

Bopping along, the shadow band strummed their cello and bass, long skeletal fingers bowing the instruments to their every whim as the strings matched the melancholy tones that flowed through the air.

“ _No, I don't care if I sing off key - I find myself in my melodies_ ”

Charlie stepped forwards pulling you along as she snapped her fingers, a blaring spotlight shone above you – the lights catching each and every diamond and sequin sewn into the dress.

“ _I sing for love, I sing for me - I'll shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

A sharp intake of air, you squeezed by our eyes shut as you sung to the heavens above;

“ _Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh - Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh - Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh - Ooh, oooh -_ _I'll shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

Glimmering golds refracted around you, creating an ethereal and otherworldly aura around your figure as you sang. Unable to help the shy smile that graced your lips, you pulled the hem of the skirt up slightly as you swayed on the impromptu stage, careful not to snag the fabric between the incredibly _sharp_ point of your heel.

“ _Now I fly, hit the high notes - I have a voice, have a voice, hear me roar tonight_ ”

One step forward.

“ _You held me down - But I fought back loud, oh_ ”

Two steps forward.

“ _There's a scream inside that we all try to hide - We hold on so tight, we cannot deny_ ”

You slipped the microphone into the bedazzled stand, eyes scanning the crowd at the cocktail of expressions below you, some clapped, some laughed, and some nodded along.

“ _Eats us alive, oh it eats us alive, oh - Yes, there's a scream inside that we all try to hide_ ”

Pouring yourself into each and every syllable, thin fingers grasping for the stand as your hips began to sway from side to side in time with the sounds of your voice swirling in the air above you.

A silent thought filtered through your mind… whatever would your parents think if they knew you were shedding every fear and insecurity you had held so incredibly close to your heart for the entirety of your life.

Would they be proud of you?

_Were they proud of you?_

“ _We hold on so tight, but I don't wanna die, no - I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, yeah_ ”

Heel clicking to the floor, your fingers skirting along your collar bone as you brought the pale skinned hand to your chest.

“ _And I don't care if I sing off key - I find myself in my melodies_ ”

Tapping your fingers to your chest as the beating of the drums and delicate strings of the cello played through your hair.

“ _I sing for love, I sing for me - I shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

Casting a glance to Charlie, her hands clasped together as stars danced before her eyes – those rosy cheeks of hers pulled into a proud smile whilst she nodded along with the melodies.

You were almost sure you saw tears welling in her eyes.

“ _No, I don't care if I sing off key - I find myself in my melodies_ ”

God you were about to join her. You weren’t sure what emotions tangled inside your heart and mind, the snakes knotting together as your fingers skirted over your hip whilst the others tapped the black rhinestoned microphone in time with the drumming of your undead heart. 

“ _I sing for love, I sing for me - I'll shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

Your tail flickers along the floor, lungs filling with a quick gulp of air as you stare up to the ornate ceiling for just a moment before squeezing them shut – throat burning with the sheer intensity in which you expelled every bottled up emotion that you had kept hidden deep within yourself.

“ _Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh - Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh - Ooh, oooh, ooooooooohhh – Ooh,_ _I'll shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

Tail curling behind you, your ears stood to attention as your voice lowered for a moment, a mere whisper compared to the gloriously intense levels you had filled the spur of the moment performance with.

“ _I’ll shout it out like a bird set free_ ”

A slow smile spread across your lips as echoing cheers erupted throughout the ballroom, your bright eyes welling with tears as they skirted across the thick black mass of demons below, their whistles and booming claps releasing the _hummingbirds_ that had been _trapped inside you_ for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man ... I need to stop hiding so many minute details in this story cause they’re killing me :’)  
> Chapter sixteen’s tittle ‘canary call’ is actually 1920’s slang for a female singer. It’s also what inspired the design of our dear readers attire for the grand reopening ball as canary’s are a golden bird with adorable little chirps and songs. 
> 
> I think its safe for everyone to assume that everything is super symbolic in this fic. 
> 
> Also - it was my birthday last week! (Is it bad that I’ve been more exited for the return of the HuniCast streams?) 
> 
> I’ll see you wonderful humans on Friday for an actual double upload! <3


	34. We Interrupt Your Scheduled Programming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho, we’re in for it now!

“You. Were. _AMAZING_!” Charlie gushed, her dark eyes squeezing shut as her arms wrapped around you in a _soul crushing hug_.

“Heh – Charlie…” you wheeze as she constricts around you even more, and even though breathing doesn’t seem to be necessary here in hell your mind still races with the instinctual need to inhale.

“You’re crushing her, hun” Vaggie tuts, her hand on Charlies shoulder with a playful pat and a soft smile.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, (Y/N)! I cant believe you’ve been hiding that crazy awesome voice from all of us! _Why_ didn’t you ever tell me you could sing _like that_?” Charlie shakes her head, hands flying around her in wild movements and gestures as she smiled widely at you.

Taking a step back, you fiddle with the corner of your dress whilst your eyes refuse to look at her and Vaggie.

Clearing your throat, you shyly smile up at them.

“I don’t usually like singing … in front of people” a nervous laugh bubbles past your lips as your shoulders shake with that _shock_ that seemed to just now be setting in.

Holy shit.

_You had really just done that!_

You. Someone who had spent their whole childhood in the choir and who had never had the confidence to stand anywhere near the front of the line.

And you had fucking smashed it!

Oh god, you felt like you were going to faint.

You needed to sit down.

“Perhaps you should pursue something of that nature, little fox?” A new voice sent you spinning, your eyes trailing up the towering figure as whatever words you would dare to speak died on your lips the instant you saw the incredibly tall woman.

Her pale lemon eyes seemed to catch the light and reflect it back like a cat caught in the beam of a flashlight, with long platinum hair that twisted and coiled around her _prominen_ t cheekbones and chiseled jawline before settling just above the floor in delicate curls that seemed to _move_ … with a mind of their own. Dark lips pulled into a soft smile, with the dark purple shadows glitter over her eyes sparkling wildly as their lids closed into a narrow eyes.

As if the incredibly tall stature wasn’t enough to intimate and shrink you down to the size of a flippin’ ant, those long and curled ram horns most definitely did. You had only seen Charlie’s horns once or twice but they were kind of cute and incredibly non threatening to you. These bad boys looked sharp enough to _impale_ something and study enough to carry that _poor unfortunate soul_ for miles.

A crown of thorns sat neatly atop her head, the jet black of the spikes matching the tight fitted gown that swallowed her curvaceous figure like a glove. The sheer black fabric that cascaded down her shoulders and hid beneath the long elbow length velvet gloves revealed the pristine muted pink skin below, and dear god you couldn’t find one blemish or flaw on the velvet clad woman.

The woman was in all senses of the word … _perfect_.

She stood with a patient smile as her hands crossed by her shoulders, waiting for a response.

“Oh, um, _I don’t_ …” you fumbled for words, only to be knocked out of the way by the mass of ruffles and glitter that was Charlie. Recovering and stepping back, you stood beside Vaggie for emotional support.

Shooting you a wink, Vaggie shook her head knowingly and nudged into your shoulder.

“MUM!”

Wait… mum?

What in the??

“Hello my little dumpling! I see you’ve really polished the place up a bit, hmmm? This looks exceptionally extraordinary!” The woman beamed with slitted eyes down to the princess of hell.

You know when something just sort of clicks in your mind? You felt like such a fool. You had walked past the portraits a million times over and couldn’t believe you hasn’t recognised the woman before this very moment.

“Lilith?” You whispered to Vaggie, who hid her smile behind a small grey hand.

“ _Vagatha_! How wonderful to see you again. I trust you are keeping this adorable little trouble maker of mine out of harms way, yes?” Lilith hummed down at the moth demon. If you thought you were dwarfed by the woman, Vaggie must have felt it even more. If she did, she didn’t show it – replying with a quick nod and a shrug.

“Can anyone really keep this one out of trouble, your highness?” she laughs as Charlie removed her arms from around her mother and turns to join the two of us with a smile that looked like it was about ready to split her entire face if it didn’t stop growing.

“Hmm, yes she does seem to run straight for it – don’t you darling?” Her low and sultry voice sent a shiver down your spine as your tail began to twitch nervously. Was it just you, or was everyone in Hell crazy intimidating? Even the nice ones.

_What was up with that?_

“Well, what can I say? I’m still young at heart”

“That you are. Now, have you seen your father?” The towering demoness’ eyes scanned the room with a deep furrow in her brow.

“Not yet, if he were going to be anywhere I’d guess it’d be at the bar or trying to play an elaborate practical joke on some poor unwitting demon” Charlie rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a quick sigh before glancing back up at her mother.

“How’s about I show you around? I’d love to show you what we’ve done to the place” with a small nod from the literally queen of Hell, the two leave yourself and Vaggie behind.

A moment of silence passes between you before you crack, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“So…. _Vagatha_ , huh?”

“Shut up” pouting, she crossed her arms by her chest in an effort to put her defences back up.

“No, no. I think its hella cute!” Chuckling to yourself, you pull her in for a reassuring hug. With a defeated sigh, she accepts it and wraps her arms around your shoulders.

“ _Dios, no_. You’re lucky I like you, (Y/N) otherwise you’d be a deadman” breaking the hug, she pulls her loose hanging hair back in front of the cross on her eye and straightens her shoulders once again. You leaned against the pillar beside the stage, backs to the black velvety curtains that looked out upon the woodland around the hotel. 

“How is Charlie holding up?” You muse, looking over to Vaggie’s stern expression. She shakes her head and glares out at the horde of demons before us.

“You know her, she’s practically over the moon”

You consider what the entire night was about and rub your shoulder.

“Has anyone decided to sign up?” Hopeful, your eyes wander across the demons who eat and drink their fill, some dancing along to the music that the shadow band had begun to play.

“A few, but not as many as we’d like. I guess something is better than nothing” she turns towards you, and shoots you a reassuring smile. As she goes to take a deep breath, her eye goes wide and stares at the space behind you. Whoever it was had to be monumentally taller than you and it immediately had your eyes rolling to the heavens above.

“Seriously…” you mutter, preparing to turn around and give the most likely candidate a piece of your mind.

The demon who stood behind you was hardly who you had expected it to be, instead being someone you had never met before.

Regardless of the plentiful crowd around the three of you, your ears seemed to ring with an endless deafening static that was unlike anything you had ever heard in your life.

In place of a regular old head was a thin screen, piercing and malicious red eyes and a wide toothed pixelated smile beaming down at you – leaving little more than a sickening feeling churning inside your guts.

“I must say, you do put on quite a show” the fiend smirked, crazed eyes skating between yourself and Vaggie with a satisfied humming, the lowest frequencies of television static crawling across your skin.

“(Y/N), get behind me” Vaggie whispered, reaching behind her and pulling out her spear.


	35. Video Killed The Radio Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk, is anyone else fighting in the shops for toilet paper, or is it just Australia?  
> This shit *literally* is getting out of hand...

The stranger laughed down at the little moth demon and stared down the pointy end of the spear.

“You can put your little toy away, sweetie. I’m afraid that it wont do much good” they smiled.

“How did you get in here?!” Vaggie demands, her eye narrowing to a thin slit that burns with unbridled rage.

The stranger chuckled before pulling his hands out from behind his back. Vaggie shoves the spear closer to the demons throat and lets a low growl out through her wired teeth.

“Ha, ha. You should learn to calm that temper of yours, sweetie. _You’ll find that I was invited_ ” the stranger laughed, hand disappearing deep into the waistcoat of his suit and producing a delicate golden envelope that looked incredibly familiar. Vaggie snatched the invitation from his hand and thrust it towards you – your hands fumbling to catch it in mid air before it fell to the marble floor.

“ _Oh no_ ” the whisper of the words ghosts across your lips.

Peeling back the golden card or the envelope and peering down at the stationary within, you swallow hard.

It was your handwriting.

_‘Dearest Vox,_ _You are cordially_ _invited to the grand re-opening of the Hazbin Hotel! We hope that you will join us for an utterly ostentatious night of dancing and drinking on April 31 st at 4pm sharp. We do hope to see you there’ _

_Shit_. Shit, shit, **shit**.

What had you done?

Vaggie had told you about the one overlord who had refused to bend to the will of The Radio Demon, and you were dumb enough to invite the guy.

Alastor was going to kill you.

You could see it now, he’d tear you to pieces – rip you limb from limb – keeping you sentient and alive enough to keep you from the void of the beyond. 

He’d –

“Well? What does it say?” Vaggie’s eye darted to you, tone implying that she had already tried to catch your attention.

“Its addressed to him, Vaggie I have to tell you someth-” your voice echoes in a hushed whisper, before the stranger grabbed for his top hat and bowed low.

“Is this how your _little hotel_ greets its guests? Why, all I was doing was telling our _little demoness_ here how exquisite their voice was. What a truly moving performance, I’m sure _our audience felt it_ – even in the darkest of their hearts!” standing to full height again and placing the top-hat back on with a smug smile spreading across his lips … screen?

You were confused on what to call this bastard.

Was he a man?

A television?

A demon with a television head.

Hell never ceased to beguile you.

“You aren’t welcome here. I suggest you turn around and go back from whatever _dark pit you came from_ ” frowning, Vaggie slowly inches the sharp blade towards his throat, and you feel the butterflies of fear slowly flutter in your stomach. 

“ _Ouch_. Words can hurt, sweet _little_ thing! Whatever happened to that five star hospitality that these reputable places are supposed to have?” Adjusting his bow tie, Vox peered around the ballroom with those crazed eyes that set you on edge.

Static clawed at your bared arms and you just knew – you knew he was coming closer.

“Ah! If it isn’t my old advisory. _Mister Vox_ , how are you on this fine evening?” His voice practically pulsated with heavy static and you dared to sneak a peak up at him.

Those usually dark pupils of his had elongated to radio dials, that callous smile of his seemingly wired shut as his teeth flickered to life at each word spoken. Shaking his head clear and staring at the insanely tall overlord through narrowed eyes, the Radio Demon swirled his cane and struck it to the floor with unbridled power.

“And if it isn’t my _old friend_ , The _Radio Demon_. I wasn’t aware you’d be at this utterly prestigious gathering, do tell – whatever brings you to such a _poor excuse_ for a party?” The overlords stared each-other down, you could practically see the _static and electricity_ jolting through the air and intermingling with one another.

You shuffle behind Vaggie even more, who puffs out her chest and refuses to back down from this conversation. You’re sure someone’s going to get hurt tonight.

“You’ll find my staff and I have been working _incredibly close_ with the _Magne family_ to provide sinners with a home to call their own”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Tipping his hat, Vox lets out a low chuckle as a minuscule bolt of electricity dances around the crooked antenna on his head, those wild eyes staring down at Alastor with an air of superiority surrounding him.

You never knew Alastor to back down from any demon, overlord or not, Vaggie being incredibly clear about how he had reached a stalemate with the monumentally tall demon before you.

“My, it seems I’m doing more these days than you, dear Vox. Might I ask how you spent the last extermination, hmmm? Locked away in that ludicrous tower of yours safe from any stray exterminators?”

“And you’re trying to tell me you weren’t out at that shit stain you call an estate?” Vox raises a bright blue pixel brow at stares down at him through narrowed slits, eyes an endless river of pure red.

“Precisely! I found myself unequivocally bored after our last little tryst and figured, why not find a new source of entertainment? Surely one that, you - old chap - just weren’t sparking within me anymore” humming to himself, Alastor leaned on to of his cane and beamed widely at the Television Demon. 

Tail puffing behind you with the sheer anticipation for the fast approaching onslaught of unadulterated power, you lost yourself in their growing argument, ears flattening beside your skull as you fiddled with the uneven stone around your neck.

What could have happened between the two of them to leave them in such a volatile state whenever they were in a close proximity to one another?

You slipped the envelope in your hands behind your back, not thinking twice before stuffing it down into the bodice of your dress and hoping to whatever cosmic justice was watching that nobody had seen the most minute of movements.

If Alastor found out you had invited Vox … you didn’t want to think about what could happen again.

After some time, Vaggie began to slowly shrink backwards – the movement snapping you from your inner turmoil as she held her hand out protectively in front of your stomach.

“Move. Back. Slowly” she mumbled, the words so low you could barely hear her. Staring wide eyed over to the two overlords of Hell, you saw her sudden cause of concern.

Your quartet was still tucked away in the safely of the wings in the ballroom, where few demons could see who had actually stood shrouded in the darkness. Static and electricity bubbled and boiled around the overlords, sending bolts of lightning fizzling between the two.

You took a step backwards with Vaggie, a cold sweat drenching your back as your mouth grew dry.

Fear had never clutched your heart so tight.

You swore it if it got any tighter your heart would burst.

“Al!” Dumbly calling out, the Television Demon’s eyes flashed to you as a bolt of electricity shot towards you, striking your chest and sending you flying.

Everything became fuzzy as you struggled to look around, the ceiling above shaking in and out of existence as you tried to clear whatever had hit you like a steam train before everything grew dark.

“(Y/N)?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, thats about it from me, I will see you cherubs on Monday for another chapter!


	36. Strange Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We make some truely ... shocking discoveries

Cold, clammy fingers touched your forehead as you rolled in your sheets. Blinking through the blind haze behind your eyes, you slowly regained consciousness.

_You felt like you’d been hit by a truck._

“Ugh” the groan vibrated on your teeth, your eyes finally taking in the dark red of the ceiling.

“(Y/N)! Thank goodness you’re awake!” Charlies sweet voice pulled your attention to your bedside.

“Charlie? What happened?” Looking up at her, you were surprised to see her unusually disheveled. Her platinum hair sat in a messy bun, her clear porcelain skin looking tired and worn – as if she hadn’t been sleeping properly.

You tried to piece together what had happened, your memory fuzzy. Searching for the memories that evade your mind, only to have them be strangely absent.

“I’m so glad that you’re awake!” She hugs you close before sitting you up in bed and offering you a cup of lukewarm tea. Sipping it and wondering idly what she had used to make the tea as you chased the memories that couldn’t seem to find.

“Why are you saying it like that?” Tilting your head, you set the mug down on the dark wood of your bedside table. Tail swishing behind you, you grab it and run your nails through it.

“(Y/N) … _you’ve been unconscious for a week_ ”

“ ** _A WEEK?!_** ” Hands shooting to your curled mass of hair and pull down so that the long strands of your mangled fringe down either side of your cheeks.

“ _What_ the hell happened?!” Shaking your head, you struggle to comprehend the gap in your mind, the lack of space and time that seemed to plague you.

“ _I’m so sorry (Y/N),_ I couldn’t get to you on time. Somehow the overlord Vox got into the ball and started to stir up trouble with Alastor. Vaggie couldn’t stop the bolt of electricity that struck you, before you blacked out” her eyes welled with tears as she refused to meet your gaze.

Everything seemed to be fitting back into place.

The stranger had approached Vaggie and You, a pixelated face smiling down at you with a menacing glare.

The Radio Demon had come to investigate the commotion.

A heated argument between the two.

You had tried to throw yourself between Vox and Alastor once their argument had gotten heated.

A _bolt of electricity_ coursing through your mind and organs.

“You cant blame yourself Charlie. It my fault. I tried to put myself between them – _like an idiot_ ” you tried to comfort her, watching in concern as she turned from you as the tears welled in her eyes. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was your _foolish mistake_ that Vox had turned up in the first place.

Trying to get back at Alastor had been one thing, but lying and misusing the trust Charlie had put in you?

You felt shook to your core, a feeling you didn’t want to admit swelling in your guts that you refused to acknowledge…. The _guilt and shame_ of bringing such an _unknown force_ into your home giving you a headache.

“I should have been there to help. You are such a _good friend_ and you’ve always got my back” gripping at her am, you turn her to face you and bundle up your sleeve to write the welling tears away.

“It was my mistake Charlie. _I know_ you want to save everyone, but you cant let that _rule your life_. Some people _cant be saved_ , and some people _don’t need_ to be saved. Vaggie had it under control”

She looked up and frowned at you.

“Vaggie wasn’t the one who resolved the situation” with a tilt of her head and a concerned gaze, you weren’t too sure if you followed her meaning.

“If Vaggie didn’t put an end to it, _then who did?_ ” Confused, you squinted up at her and waited.

“ _Alastor_. As soon as he saw you drop to the ground he threw Vox out of the hotel before Vaggie carried you back here” you mulled over what she had said, trying to fill the blank space in your mind once again and turning back empty handed.

You fiddled with your tail again, nails raking through the fur in a nervous need to find something to do – _anything_ that would take your mind off of things. Reaching her hand out, those delicate fingers of hers giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“Usually, I’d say you should get some rest, but it seems sort of silly after the last week” your shoulders shake with the awkward joke she makes, a small smile drawing on your lips as your stomach rumbles.

“I should go and get some food, huh?” You sigh, pulling your legs up into a neat cross and humming as she stands and shoots you a sly smile.

“ _No, no, no_. No moving around, you need to get your strength back up. I’ll send Niffty up with some food, any requests?” Wiggling her brows, she crosses her arms and chuckles to herself whilst she walks to the bedroom door and twists the golden handle. 

“Hmm, surprise me?” Nodding to herself, she closes the door behind her and leaves you alone in the silence of your room.

Rubbing your head, you groan and flop backwards into the bed – staring up at the ceiling with a blank eyed stare.

Stomach grumbling, you roll onto your side and look out into the dark moonlight shadowing the forests outside the hotel.

How had you lost a week of your afterlife?

Sliding your legs from the blankets and grabbing for the black cardigan as you pass by the vanity chair, slinging the warm fabric around your shoulders and wrapping it tightly around your torso.

Moving to the sliding door of your balcony, fingers grasping for the handle and stepping out into the chilling air, you gaze up in wonder as your breath catches in the cool winter breeze. Watching as the soft flakes of snow drifted down from the darkened skies, you hummed and leaned against your folded arms.

A gnawing feeling seeped into your mind as you stared out into the forest, the sensation nagging its way down your spine before settling at the base of your neck.

“Ugh” rubbing your shoulder, you frown and groan about the strange sensation that grasps your mind tight, the pain intensifying with each passing breath.

“What … is … _happening?_ ” Clutching at the roots of your hair, the pain spreads down your spine, _knees buckling_ below you as you lean over the balcony – a strained yowl coming from your ground teeth. A hiss dares to escape your lips as you clutch your stomach and the snow falls around your writhing figure on the scuffed floor.

A sickening crack echoes in your ears as you shiver on the ground, the piercing scream shredding through the tranquil air as your body bends and breaks to whatever menacing torture you were being forced to endure.

_Was this what Hell was really like?_

Had it all been for nothing, the friends and memories you had made getting you to drop your guard enough until it finally broke you?

No feelings of pain or agony had ever come close to what was coursing through your blood and bones whilst you somehow found your way on your hands and knees. Heaving the frozen air into your lungs, eyes watering as they peered at the sky above through thick lashes, you were sure you were going to die.

_Again._

Another round of breaking wracked your body, ribs snapping out of place as they seemed to _collapse_ and _shrink_ to a minuscule size, you watched on in horror as your long fingers began to grow a pristine white fur that sprouted in short tufts.

“What the?!” Growling at yourself, you closed your eyes as the pain _flickered like wildfire_ beneath your lids – lips pulling back into a snarl as your mind seemed to cave in on itself, somehow the sounds around you becoming clearer and more disturbing with each passing moment.

Is this what the end felt like? You were sure that going to the eternal void would be a walk in the park compared to the burning fires that consumed your body, pain clutching on to each molecule of your being.

The world around you seemed to get bigger, or you became smaller. Ears braced against the side of your skull, your hair began to curl and wither as your nose sprouted from your face, eyes wide as a strange film glazed across them – forcing your senses to heighten as you slowly shrunk down.

Your legs, much like the rest of your body, bent in a strange contortion as the shudders of pain cascaded in crashing waves around your form. A lone howl escaped your jowls as the darkened pentagram stood, teasing in the skies above.

Huffing and puffing, you stopped for a moment as the world around you seemed to cease.

_Slowly … your eyes opened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s about all from me right now, I’ll be back on Friday with another chapter!
> 
> Stay safe and wash yo hands fam <3


	37. A Shocking Turn Of Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I apologise for the sudden break. We’ve been having some major issues with this whole pandemic and I’ve just lost my job (as I am sure many of us who are deemed non-essential workers have) and its been crazy stressful. 
> 
> Second off, uploads are probably going to be cut down to one chapter every Monday and Friday for the next few weeks - plz don’t kill me. I promise the chapters are becoming longer as well, so what would have been a double upload is just being placed in one singular chapter. 
> 
> Thirdly, I hope everyone is staying safe during these crazy times. I know to some people this virus doesn’t seem real because it hasn’t affected anyone you know, but this is something that needs to be taken seriously. Here in Australia we’ve just been placed on a Stage 3 (of nobody knows how many stages there are left) restrictions for social contact and self-isolations. This is something we’re in for the long haul and with autumn and winter weather sweeping the Southern Hemisphere make sure you stay safe and warm, check on your extroverted friends and make sure they’re okay. I know a lot of my friends are struggling with the isolation so make sure they’re staying busy to keep their minds off of things. 
> 
> Anyways, thats all from me for this fine Wednesday morning, it’s officially April and that means one good holiday coming up. I will, as always, see you guys on Friday for another chapter :) 
> 
> You’re awesome, Thankyou so much for the continued love and support on this fic xx   
> \- Silver

Ears twitching, tail swishing. You opened your eyes and peered up at the iridescent shining orb before you. The ring of golden light above the holy grotto reflecting in your mirrored eyes.

_What the hell?!_

Your voice seemed to echo in your mind, the words never entering the dead space around you as you looked around the balcony. Turning to the glass door behind you, the shift in your perspective sent you reeling. The handle looked _so much higher_ than it had before, _each attempt_ to reach it made in vain as your legs carried all of your weight. A gleam in the glass caught your attention, eyes turning downwards to catch the _faintest reflection_ of where you stood.

Shrieking, you stumbled back and tripped over your legs.

Chest heaving and squeezing your eyes shut, you hoped to the heavens above that this wasn’t really happening.

_Pull yourself together. There’s no way you’re a …_

Peeking out from below your thick lashes, brow pulled down in a frown … that’s when you saw _them_.

Long gone were your long delicate fingers, replaced with small paws with sharp claws poking out from the _soft toe beans_ that touched down on the cool layer of snow that had haphazardly fallen onto the dark wooden decking. Tilting your head, a low growl in your throat as you placed the sensitive appendage to the solid flooring below you and approached the glass once more.

You had shrunk in the strangest and most comical way, you were just a tad longer than the vanity which sat neatly in your room, your nose pointed out in front of you and able to catch the faintest scent wafting before you.

Body turning, the pristine white fur that had seemingly migrated from just your tail and ears to all over your smaller form glistening in the soft moonlight. You concentrated on the _sheer and unbridled power_ that seemed to build in your back legs, the bones bent at a sickening concave angle as your eyes scanned for the target.

_I can do this. I can do this._

You chant to yourself, brow pulling downwards as you prepare to pounce.

Hissing, you miss the mark – scurrying back down the fencing that separated you from the outside world. One, two, four more attempts all failed as you tried to spring upwards in a graceful arc. Growling, your paws pacing back and forth along the decking. If you couldn’t find a way back inside through the glass door, you were going to have to scale the side of the hotel and drop down.

_Wouldn’t that be funny?_

How would you even explain that you were… well… _you_?

Huffing once more, your limbs bending down and paws digging into the grainy wood – you pause.

Breathing in and out, focusing on the sounds around you and feel of your form, the muscles inside your hind legs that build their power with each breath that frosts in the air around you.

_You pounce._

Squeezing your eyes shut, breath trapped in your windpipe as you pray and hope that you landed the jump. Slowly opening one eye, you breathe a sigh of relief when your paws sit firmly on the wooden railing of the balcony.

_Oh thank all that is holy! AHA!_

Dancing around the spot where your miniature form had landed, a low chuckle echoing in your mind at the pride that swelled in your little chest – heart fluttering and stomach flipping as you howled with a high pitched scream up to the heavens above. Maybe being a fox wasn’t too bad … once you were to get the hang of it.

Wasting no time and peering down the steep drop off that was the side of the hotel. Gulping down the fear that bubbled up somewhere deep inside the dark corners of your mind, you spied the best pathway down. Scaling and slipping down the flat surfaces of balconies and window overhangs, your miniature paws grasping and gripping at each opportunity, what felt like a lifetime passed you by before landing firmly onto the sleet that was slowly building on the cobblestone pathways around the hotels grounds.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, nose tipping higher to peek up at where you had just jumped down from – you couldn’t deny how proud and exhilarated you had felt by the experience.

Skipping towards the doorway, you found yourself stopping short of the cleared decking that led up to the side door.

 _How in the nine circles am I going to explain this? Will they even know its me? Maybe I just …_ sighing to yourself, you cast a low glance back out at the darkened forest that sits just within the boundaries of the hotel’s fencing.

 _I have no idea how long this … whole thing … is going to last. What if they don’t let me inside?_ If you had hands they’d be gesturing wildly at your current predicament. Shoulders hunching behind you and nose sniffing at the air, you cautiously approached the dark wooden door. Muscles complaining as you stood on your hind legs and sniffled at the golden door handle, you tired to scratch at the wood as you let out a low whine.

If anyone was near by, surely they’d hear it.

Right?

Minutes passed and not a peep sounded from behind the doorway. Jaws opening in a poor attempt to jingle the handle, a groan echoing in your mind as you realised the door was locked anyway. There was no sneaking back in at this time of night.

_Ugh._

A cold chill ran up your spine, tail turning as you stared out across the grounds of the hotel. Specks of white had begun falling from the skies above and your head lowered in defeat.

_You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!_

It was snowing.

While you looked like a bloody stuffed teddy bear. Weighing up the options, you could either stick by the door and hope that someone would come out this way or that someone (probably Charlie) would work out that you weren’t in your room and start panicking about finding you … or you could try to find somewhere warm to bunk down until you could sneak back inside and turned back into a human-ish looking demon.

 _What if … what if I’m stuck like this? Shut up (_ Y/N _)! You’ll be fine. You’ve just gotta find somewhere warm to wait the night out._

Snapping yourself out of the stupidest argument you’d had with yourself in a long while – you glanced up and growled. Whilst you’d been pacing on the decking the snow had begun to sift down faster and harder, what was a delicate flurry of snowflakes has become a force to be reckoned with as it covered the grounds in thick layers of pure white.

 _Fuck it_ , you grunt as your paws carry you to the edge of the small deck until you stand before the sea of pristine white that blanketed the brownish grass and dull cobblestones. Peeking around the corner of the hotel and noticing the umbrella of snow that seemed to catch in the tree line on the boundaries of the estate, you hunched backwards before pouncing forwards.

Wind rushing through your fur and snow seeming to part before you as your legs raced alongside your heartbeat through the thickening layers of snow that rained down with an unforgivable vengeance. It was beginning to feel like the skies above were challenging you to a never ending marathon – eyes squinting to see through the thick white haze that had began to spread throughout the air as your target drew ever closer.

Finally, you had reached the underbrush of twisted and mangled tree branches and shrubbery. Teeth chattering and fur wet with the melting beads of snow that had laced through your once soft white fur, you shook off splattering the immediate ground around you with droplets of freezing water.

Shivering, you searched for a small place where you could spy on the hotel and also stay as warm as possible. Eventually, you stumbled across a soft patch of dirt that you were able to claw at. Satisfied that you’d be somewhat warm in the small pit, your claws shredded through the underbrush until you’d excavated a very … _you_ shaped hole.

Nestling in as the snow began to fall harder and faster until you could barely see the outline of the hotel anymore – save for the blaring lights that graced the rooftop – your nose tucked into your chest as your tail wrapped around you like a fluffy blanket.

Satisfied for the moment, you fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thats all from me!   
> I hope y’all enjoyed this short chapter and I can’t wait to see you all on Friday for a bit of a longer chapter. 
> 
> Stay safe and stay home where possible <3 
> 
> *also, I’m low key freaking out cause we are 3 bookmarks away from 100 - thats insane! Okai imma go cry in the corner because that is absolutely amazing!*


	38. You Call This A Trench-coat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! How's everyone doing with their self-isolation / lock downs / quarantines? Have you found any new hobbies or are you honing your skills?
> 
> ALSO ~~ We've hit some absolutely phenomenal achievements for this fic! As I write, we have:  
> 280 comments, 687 Kudos' / likes, 100 bookmarks and 12036 Hits!  
> This is amazing, y'all are amazing <3 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> I cannot thank you guys enough for all the support on this fic while we wait for more episodes of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss

Startled awake, you had become somewhat aware that you were shivering like a madman. Your eyes shot open wide as you began to pat yourself down. Sighing and thanking whatever deity had decided to reward your horrible night with your rightful body once more, you stared down at your fingernails. Dirt and tree roots had caked everything from the tips of your fingernails to the palms of your pale skinned hands.

Lets not get this wrong, you were so bloody thrilled – over the moon in fact – that you had hands again.

Apparently these gods weren’t as benevolent as you had originally thought …

Because you were _butt naked_.

 _“_ For fuck sake” hissing and rushing to cover yourself up with your arms and tail, you peered around the tree line. Nobody seemed to have braved the weather as it got progressively worse overnight. _Oh boy, how great for you._ Rising to stand, you slowly moved towards the edge of the forest and started up at the hotel. At least the haze had cleaned and you guessed that because you had arms _and_ legs again that you could just trek back up towards the front door again.

Frowning, you started down at the thick blankets snow that covered the worn dirt path. You hadn’t really grown up around snow before dying, and if the circumstances were different you were sure you’d appreciate just how beautiful the sight truly was … perhaps you could admire it from the warmth and safety of your glass windows, where there was a heater, and blankets and … clothes.

Groaning to yourself, you knew you’d have to make a run for it, naked or not. If you stayed out here you’d most likely turn into a bloody popsicle.

Surprised, your toes sunk into the snow and sleet, the pleasant chill sending a shock up your spine. The cold didn’t seem to bother you as much as it had before, your senses hardly complaining as your knees disappeared into the icy depths below. Grabbing for your tail, you wrapped as much of it around your hips as possible and crossed your arms by your chest. Breath catching in the air around you and teeth grinding together as you trudged through the crisp white snow.

The hotels silhouette grew closer, the warm red sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the strange turn of the weather. The mountains of snow around you seemed so out place in the literal pits of Hell. You’d have to ask Charlie how something like this was even possible considering that Hell was supposed to be all fire pits and flowing lava rivers.

Finally, your feet stepped on something more solid, the cobblestone steps that led right to the front door of the hotel. Making sure you all your bits and pieces were tucked in, a closed set of knuckles rasped on the stained glass window of the front door.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Puffs of foggy air still caught on your lips, freezing in the air around you as you waited and waited for someone to come to the door.

At last, you heard the footsteps nearing the lobby area so you knocked once more.

_KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK._

“Please, open up” you whisper more to yourself than anyone else.

“ _Por el amor de Dios,_ It’s six in the morning Angel, put that damned bottle down! I’m coming” the grouchy voice behind the glass scolded, footsteps rushing up and the door handle shaking violently before it was seemingly ripped open to reveal the owl eyed moth demon on the other side.

“Vaggie!” You sigh, you’d never been so bloody happy to see someone’s face in all your afterlife.

 _“Oh mi!_ (Y/N), we’ve been worried sick about you! After everything that happened at the party we thought we’d lost you for good, thank god you’re okay – oh, _um,_ where are … where are your…?” Her cheeks blushed over as another familiar head poked around the corner of the lobby hallway.

“Nice rack” Angel cackled, mismatched eyes squeezing closed as a fit of laughter overtook his incredibly tall form. Bowing over from the heckles that wracked his body, slapping his leg before sinking into the couch and dragging the greenish bottle to his lips and taking a long gulp.

Shrinking more into yourself and trying to find some solace in the fact that you at least had a tail to hide at least some of your indecency with, you smiled up at Vaggie as she ushered you inside to the warmth of the lobby. She rushed about to find you a blanket that would cover up whatever skin had dared to show itself after the incredibly tiring ordeal that had plagued you for the night.

“Hang on a sec, let me call Charlie. She’s been out _all night_ looking for you” Vaggie smiles from under the long fringe that sits in a straight line down to her shoulders, that long hair of hers flowing in every possible direction as she plunged her hand into her pocket before dialing the princess of Hell’s number and waiting for an answer.

“Can you get something to help cover up (Y/N), please Angel?” 

A groan from Angel drew your attention, brows pulling low and annoyance tingling at your fingertips. After the week you’d apparently had, you were in no mood for sly comments or mean remarks.it was only when you noticed that he turned away from you that your feet pivoted you to stare at the demon who had just take their last step down from the grand staircase.

She looked like a character from a reject children’s show that would be shown during the graveyard shift on the kids channel. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a low hanging ponytail that seemed to stretch in an endless tussle of semi—waved hair that stopped by her kneecaps, a suspiciously bloodstained set of denim overalls covered the tops of her thighs. Her once sun kissed skin now sat with a lifeless flush across her figure, with crazed crimson eyes flickering around the lobby before settling on you.

With a gasp, she raced across the carpet and stretched a thin fingered hand out towards you as if she were offering a handshake.

“Oh my goodness! Its _so nice_ to meet someone else here! I’m Brite” her beaming smile reminded you so much of Charlie, save for the unsettling twitching of the corners of her shark toothed grin.

Taking a step back as discomfort overwhelmed you, you shot her a tight lipped smile and nodded.

“Hi – _um_ , hey” you shot a pleading look at Angel, who rolled his eyes and peeled himself off the couch, crossing both sets of arms by his chest and stomach before disappearing into the cloak closest inside the lobby.

“Its so good to see another girl here! Did you just get here? What are you _in for_?” Grinning widely, she skipped around you and inspected every part of your body, forcing your shoulders to cave in a little tighter as you tried in vain to keep as much of your stark naked form out of her eyesight.

A frown pulling on your features, you shook your head and backed further into the wall beside the front door.

“Hey listen, I don’t know about you but I usually prefer to meet people with clothes on. So could you back up for a second?” Her smile dropped a little as her hands rose in understanding.

“Got it, totally got it. Why are you naked anyways?” With a young curiosity, her head tilted to the side long enough for you to spy the small horns that seemed to protrude form her head.

Rolling your eyes and willing Angel to hurry up with whatever he was digging around for, you stared down at the smaller demon.

“It’s a long story” groaning as Angel comes back around the corner with something somewhat resembling a coat, you smile and grab onto it as he chuckles and raced back up the stairs – presumably to the safety of his room.

 _Oh boy_. Upon laying eyes on what had been thrust into your grasp, you rolled your eyes and made a mental note to stab him later. 

The trench coat was made of crinkly synthetic material that felt more like someone had melted down plastic instead of using actual fabrics. The damned thing was bright pink and had two buttons, two of which stopped somewhere around your midriff and missed both your cleavage and your actual lady business.

 _For gods sake!_ You were going to kill him … again.

The young demon before you beamed up with wide eyes and an even wider smile, blinking owlishly up at you totally contradicting your startled frown.

“Can you, uh, turn around?” Humming as you lifted your arm and twirl your finger in a circular motion. Nodding and spinning on her toes, she slaps her hands to her eyes and laughs over her shoulder,

“You’ve got it!”

Casting a glance to the corner where Vaggie stood fiddling with a tear in the wallpaper, you felt somewhat comfortable enough to quickly dress in the utterly ridiculous excuse of a trench coat. The material swamped you enough to cover the important parts of your figure, the amalgamation of plastics falling just below your kneecaps alongside the second pair of sleeves that, with some quick thinking, you fashioned into some sort of belt to keep as much of the folded over coat in place.

Apologising and slipping past the _bright_ coloured demon, you catch the tail end of Vaggie’s phone call.

“For the tenth time hun, she’s safe and sound back at the hotel. I’ll see you when you get home” sighing, she hangs up and turns to you.

“Charlie is on her way back. I’ve never seen her so worried in all my life” shaking her head, she looks up at you past that chunky fringe of hers and places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Eyes darting around the room, you swallow the first words that seemed to flutter across your lips.

“I um – uh” what were you supposed to _say_ in this _situation_?

_Hey Vaggie, I turned into a freakin fox last night and got locked outside of my room after waking up from a damned coma and ended up sleeping in the forest-y woods beside the hotel._

It sounded crazy.

And while you were sure crazier things had happened, this seemed too far into the realm of unbelievable madness.

“I guess, I went for a bit of a walk and got locked outside…?” The words didn’t mean to come out as a question, but you couldn’t help it.

“O-kayyyy. But that doesn’t explain where your clothes went, or how you couldn’t get back inside, or why-” smiling up at her you raised your brows and raked your fingers through your hair.

“Look, I don’t know why either. I guess I’m just happy I didn’t freeze out there” laughing it off, you catch her staring at your incredibly dirty fingers and palms. She shoots you a sceptical glare, and you know you’re going to have to come clean.

At some stage.

Not now.

You still needed to wrap your own head around it. “So what’s for breakfast?”

“Apparently Alastor has taken it upon himself to make a ‘ _wonderfully spectacular_ ’ breakfast for us all” her loose quotation marks and impersonation of his over the top old-timey voice forces an easy smile across your lips.

That was _absolutely_ something that dork would say.

“I should, uh, probably go get some clothes”

She shoots you a small smile and nods, escorting you back up towards your room. Something that had seemingly escaped your mind while had worried about getting back into your room and getting something more than a skimpy trench coat to wear.

“So who’s the girl downstairs?” Looking over to Vaggie as you turned to ascend to the second floor of the hotel, she slaps her hand to her forehead and groans.

“Ugh, that’s our latest guest. Since the ball the other week, we’ve had a few inquiries but Brite walked in off the street. I don’t know too much about her, but Charlie is super excited about helping to rehabilitate her” walking along side you up the stairs, Vaggie rakes her fingers through her hair before clenching her teeth and casting a glance to you.

You hum for a moment, clutching the trench coat closer to yourself before you come to a complete stop in front of your doorway.

“I could always keep an eye on her, if you think she’s going to cause trouble”

She scoffs and tosses her hair behind her shoulder with a sly smile.

“Oh please, we all know who really wears the pants around here” she winks and crosses her arms by her chest as her hip juts out to the side.

“Hmm, Charlie?” Laughing, you cant help the easy feeling that settled back into your bones. You and Vaggie seemed to get along okay after the rocky shores that seemed to plague your relationship in the early days of you being at the hotel. It felt like she was someone you could have a laugh with but still broach those serious topics with.

“Well, technically. I think after playing princess dress up for all those years have ‘ _dressed_ ’ her out”

“You’re both really lucky to have found each other” Your lips pull into a warm smile as you bump into Vaggie’s shoulder.

“We are, aren’t we?” Nodding, she hums to herself like a love struck teenager. You were glad that both of your friends had someone they could come back to at the end of the day and find some solace in each others company.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Vaggie breaks it with the shake of her head.

“Anyways, you should get dressed. Maybe one day you’ll tell me how you ended up stark naked in the middle of a snowstorm” laughing, she turns and descends down the stairs once again. Focusing your attention on the door handle, you reach forwards and twist the golden handle.

“ _Oh shit_ ”

The metal refused to move, hardly budging as you groaned and rested your head on the dark wooden door.

Of course.

Of course it was locked.

“Why does this shit _always happen_ to me?” clutching the poor excuse of a trench coat closer to you and turning tail to walk back down the stairs, you stole a peek down the hall and once satisfied that Vaggie and the new girl, Brite, had vacated and retreated into the kitchens you took the final step down back into the lobby you had been so desperate to get out of only moments before.

If anyone was going to have some spooky skeleton key that was going to unlock the doors, it was going to be the Radio Demon himself. There was no way he had only concocted one singular key and given it to you for when you were working. No chance, he had to have his own copy as well.

Airing every form of caution, you stepped up towards his office door and knocked softly.

Vaggie had said he had gone to get foodstuffs, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hanging around during the early hours of the morning.

When no answer came from inside the office, you tried the doorknob and were pleasantly surprised as you stepped inside the dark room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans are about to ensue, I'll catch you guys back here on Monday for another chapter :D


	39. Hardly What I Expected

As the door closed behind you, your legs carried you towards the dark wooden desk that held neat stacks of papers and folders, stray pieces of glitter catching your eyes that were no doubt the result of Charlie’s efforts to get her rehabilitation ideas down on paper. Even _without the lights on_ , it seemed like you could see everything _crystal clear_ – as though the previous evenings ordeal left your senses somewhat _heightened_.

With no new guests before the grand re-opening ball and Alastor cutting down your _‘in office’_ hours in favour of helping Charlie and Vaggie decorate, you had thrown your own skeleton key into the drawer of your vanity and forgotten about its existence for the past few weeks – promising yourself that you’d dig it back up if guests began checking in.

Now you were in the shit because both of your keys were locked inside your room and you had no real chance of getting back inside.

For the _love of_ _Lucifer_ , you just wanted to be in your own _damned_ clothes.

Sighing and slinking forwards, your mind wanders where an overlord would keep an all-powerful key…

You began sifting through the loose paperwork and scrambled around the surface of The Radio Demon’s desk, eyes scanning every nook and cranny for signs of a black key. Disappointed by the fact that someone as smart and level-headed as Alastor _wouldn’t leave an all-powerful key just lying around_ , you turned your attention to the drawer below the desk.

Rattling the handle, you groaned as the draw was also locked.

_Could you not catch a fucking break?_

“Ugh” you turned towards the bookshelves behind Alastor’s desk and began looking through whatever boxes you could find, dirt caked nails scratching along each surface and coming up short aside from whatever strange voodoo and hex shit he kept handy.

Putting a thin twine pin doll back into its original place, you shook your head in frustration. You swore you were going to rip your damned hair out if you couldn’t get back into your room.

Ears perking up, you heard the soft approaching footsteps a second too late, turning around just in time to watch the doors handle twist and swing open. Brows raising and prepared for the worst, you stared up at the shadowy silhouette standing in the open doorway.

You didn’t need the light to see the recognition in his eyes, he had to have known exactly who was in his office before he even stepped into the hallway. The static began to tingle the tops of your shoulders and stick to your hair as that easy smile of his found its way across his features, those long talons finding the light switch with ease and spreading light throughout the room.

“Darling, we have to stop meeting like this” his mocking tone fills the office, your head tilting to the side and raising your brow at him in an effort to play coy.

“And how exactly are we meeting?” quietly sliding the voodoo doll onto the shelf behind you.

“It seems we are always crossing paths under such dubious circumstances, my dear. Dare I ask whatever you were doing going through my most prized possessions?” smirking up at you and tilting his head at that breakneck angle that you hated with a passion, you pushed yourself further into the bookshelves in a lacklustre effort to keep as much distance between yourself and the demon in the doorway.

He was no fool, playing with you like a hunter and their prey.

“I’ve - uh” fumbling for words, and a cold sweat beginning to stir along your spine – you didn’t want to come clean about locking yourself out of your room for the very reason you had defied him when he had practically assigned you as his assistant.

You didn’t want to seem like a weak or outspoken little girl.

Telling him you’d locked yourself out of your room wasn’t an option … at least it wasn’t for the moment.

“Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to pop by and say hi?” shrugging the invasion of privacy off, he stepped inside the office and smiled down at you with a questioning glare, covering the span of the small room in no more than three strides as his towering figure glided across the room in an effortless motion. Nearing you with a devilish grin, he placed a finger below your chin and tilted your head up – forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Hm,” that pondering voice sends a jolt of electricity throughout your body, forcing each and every hair across your skin to rise.

He knew you were bullshitting … and he knew you knew he knew that you were bullshitting.

Shit.

You just hoped he hadn’t heard your heartbeat pick up its pace.

“I’m afraid that if you possessed a modicum of sense you’d elect not to lie to me” letting your chin go and turning tail, he starts to reshuffle the things on his desk, your lungs letting out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding. He chuckles and glances over towards where you stand.

You realised _exactly_ what you were dressed in as his eyes lowered for a fraction of a second, and you felt a slow flush spread across your cheeks.

Pulling the damned trench-coat closer than ever and attempting to flatten your wild hair, you looked away first.

Alastor and yourself had become somewhat civil in the weeks leading up to the ball, but as he turned his back and began sorting his papers you noted that his usual quippy remarks were gone.

He sounded … tired.

“I saw we had a new guest in the lobby…” maybe a change in pace would help alleviate the thick blanket of tension that had fallen in the office.

“Ah, yes! The wonderful miss Brite – I believe her name was. A true spitfire it would seem” shaking his head and grasping for one more stack of papers before adjusting his monocle – he tutted his tongue.

“She seems … talkative” offering more to the conversation, you slowly edge around the corners of the room before your bared feet stumbled upon something. Eyes flicking downwards, your teeth clenched to contain the growl that threatened at the nothingness below you.

The Radio Demon’s eyes shot up towards where you had just stumbled.

“Indeed. Were you planning on revealing your true intentions for breaking into my office?” tilting his head, you notice the barely there bags below his eyes. You were stumped as you realised you had only ever seen him looking this tired once before – after he had practically opened up endless voids that swallowed that damned snake’s zeppelin whole.

“It’s not really breaking and entering when the door is unlocked, is it?” trying to laugh the situation off in the best way you knew, you saw his patience slowly slipping as he adjusted his monocle once more.

He could hide everything behind that ever-present smile, but you could tell something was up. He never fiddled with anything, and he had readjusted that monocle twice in the last minute.

“Ha, ha, ha. I do believe it is still considered breaking and entering regardless of the lack of locks” a hiss of laughter escaped those jagged orange teeth of his whilst radio garble echoed around the room.

Sighing and dropping your chin as you fiddled with the skin on your nails, butterflies swarmed your stomach.

“It’s honestly the stupidest reason”

“Surely not” that dark chuckle and inquisitive stare had your eyes rolling in the most dramatic fashion before mumbling as fast as physically possible.

“ _Ilockedmyselfoutofmyroom_ ”

His head cocked to the side.

Static filled the air before his brows dipped into a borderline frown, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“You’ll have to speak up dear, I’m quite hard of hearing in my old age” as if to make it worse, he held a gloved hand up to his ears, craning his neck and therefore bringing himself closer to where you wished the god damned wall would just open the fuck up and swallow you whole.

“Oh, shut up, I’ve seen you annihilate an airship with the snap of your fingers. I’ve just locked myself out of my room” hands flying out to the sides and staring at him with a wide-eyed expression of frustration, you stomped your bared foot onto the carpeted floor with a growl.

If he wanted to milk the damned situation, you weren’t going to give him the sick satisfaction.

“And you presumed I would have a way in to it?” shaking his head and snapping his fingers, Alastor summoned his ever-faithful microphone cane before twirling it between the sounds of his inner radio tuning itself, flashes of voices that were not his ghosting past his closed tooth smile as he awaited your response.

“Well … yeah actually. I thought you might have another skeleton key lying around?”

“And might I ask why you are without your own skeleton key, or did we lock that in our room as well?” pouting as if talking to a child, he shakes his head with a smile.

“I – uh – yes. Yes, I did” you hated to admit to something so stupid and foolish, you stare anywhere but at him.

If you couldn’t bring yourself to explain to Vaggie what had happened last night, there was no way in Hell you’d tell Alastor. He may have been your boss and perhaps even a borderline friend but you weren’t ready to tell anyone about the strange and downright traumatic events of the previous night.

“And shall I also presume that this ‘locked out of your room’ business is what has also resulted in you dressing in something that is hardly work appropriate?” hands waving in the air, he raises his brow knowingly as he taps is chin.

“Um, you’d be correct” rolling your eyes at the carpet, you dare to look back towards where Alastor stood. The moment you did, regret filled you. Gone was the tired smile, replaced with the ultimate shit eating grin.

“Ah, yes. Whilst I do not possess another skeleton key, I shall help you back to your room. Allow me to escort you there”

God you hated coming to him for help. He had this way of patronising you and making you feel like you owed him for his ‘good deeds’. You groaned as you followed him out the door, watching as he produced a copper key and twisted it into the lock, grinning down at you as he wrapped his long claws around the handle to show that he had indeed locked the door before leaving with you.

Shaking your head, you followed closely beside him as the two of you ascended the staircase towards the endless array of rooms above.

“Ah yes, before I forget! How is your head, by the by? No lingering … aftershocks?” his brow raises as the pair of you begin to climb the first set of stairs, and you can’t help but stare up at him for a moment.

_Did he know?!_

Surely, he couldn’t.

Nobody knew because nobody had seen you turn into a full blown … _fox_ …

It was one thing to have the ears and the tail, but to break and bend down into a four-legged animal was a whole other issue that you weren’t quite sure how to wrap your mind around.

“Not at all. Just a small coma from what I heard” shrugging it off, you eye him with a cautious glare as his chin lifts and takes another stride forward.

“Indeed. You were out cold for quite a while, my dear” nodding along with you, he twirls his cane and tucks it behind his back as the two of you reach the first floor of the hotel.

“What happened after I went … like, out?” swinging around the bannister, you climbed the second set of stairs.

“My dear friend Vox was barred from the ball, I’m _yet to discover_ how the _scoundrel_ managed to get his horrifically mangled claws onto an invitation. Alas – that little moth demon helped to carry you back to your lodgings before the Princess insisted on locking prying eyes out whilst you remained unconscious”

“That’s nice, I guess” rubbing your head, you couldn’t figure out how you had bounced back so quickly. You’d been electrocuted. That shit killed people.

Well, maybe _not demons_.

You were sure there were some sick fucks down here who hooked themselves up to car batteries for the shits and giggles.

But electricity and people didn’t usually mix in general.

Shouldn’t there be some lasting effects, other than your strange and sudden transformation into a damned were-fox?! Headaches or heart palpitations seemed like a cakewalk compared to bones breaking and shrinking down at odd and terrifying angles.

Alastor and yourself finally stopped in front of your door. Even though it had only been a few hours since you had been inside, it had felt like an eternity since you had climbed into your bed and had a good night’s rest.

“Okay boss. What’s your plan?” glaring up at him and crossing your arms as best as you could without loosing our grip on the coat and potentially flashing the whole hallway your lady-parts, his only response was grasping the cane tightly and lowering the eyeball ended microphone end to the floorboards.

You watched in mind numbing shock as the shadows of the hallway seemed to be vacuumed up towards the crimson eyeball that blinked awake. The shadows seemed to come alive with hushed and nonsensical whispers as the static grew thick and heavy, clinging to your fur as it intensified to blaring white noise.

A set of wide antlers stretched across the floorboards, glowing red eyes and a gaping maw smiled up with a mischievous grin – the corner of the monstrous jowls twisting into a rough spiral as the writing black mass began to expand. No longer were the shadows a pool of strange moving parts, they began to stitch themselves together into a tattered mass of limbs and a torn suit jacket topped with rough looking ear tips.

The shape raced across the floorboards, a silent assassin that coiled around your bared feel like a python poised to strike. Your mind grew boggled as you tried to rationalise the lack of weight account your ankles and calves, shouldn’t there be something – anything – more than a feather light touch from such a monstrous creature?

Hold the fucking phone.

“Alastor…” blinking up at him.

“Why yes, my dear?” tilting his head with a knowing smirk, you resisted the urge to throw fists at the most formidable demon in Hell.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh! This is Ezrintaran”

“Are they … is that your _shadow_?”

“Indeed”

“Your… shadow?”

The slimy black mass tightened its constrictive grasp around you before wisping away as if it had never been there, the tingling sensation leaving you scratching your head at the strange familiarity that you couldn’t quite place.

“Now, now Ezrintaran I require some assistance. Our little fox seems to have locked herself out of her room. Could you be a dear and unlock the door for me?” blinking down sweetly at the shadow monster, Alastor nodded towards the door and a thought struck you …

Why would Alastor need a skeleton key when he had a sentient shadow?

What was stopping said shadow from sliding under doors and unlocking them all from the inside?

What if …

You were pulled from your inner turmoil as the shadow darted between the spikes of the carpet and the smooth wood of the door, only to hear the tell-tale sound of the lock popping out of place before the door swung on its hinges and parted to reveal your neat room inside.

“Well now! If that’ll be all, I really must be going darling. I do believe I have a breakfast feast to prepare for our new guests” he practically sings as he summons the shadow back to his feet, the mass of black staring up at you with those blood red eyes and gaping maw before slinking away into the shadows once more.

“I guess that explains why you don’t have a second skeleton key…” you cast him a side eyed glare before turning towards your room.

“Speaking of, perhaps you should be carrying that little trinket with you at all times, hmmm?” leaning over his cane and tilting his head like the smug bastard he was, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“And here I was about to thank you for your kind and selfless gesture. I guess you’ll have to go on living without it” you shake your head, arms crossed by your chest as you glare up at his grinning face.

“Oh! However shall I go on?” he places a hand to his forehead as the air around the two of you fills with over dramatic soap opera music. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. I guess I’ll see you at breakfast” with a nod he turns to walk back down the hallway from whence he came, humming to himself as he twirled his cane before setting it below his elbow and began to descend the stairs. You grabbed for the golden door handle and closed the door behind you, assuring yourself that it was locked and secured. As a precautionary measure, you jingled the handle before becoming somewhat satisfied that it was in fact locked.

Your mind raced once more as it resumed its thought process from moments earlier.

This damned door was always coming loose, always unlocking itself out of seemingly nowhere.

Surely – SURELY – there was something more to this … but what?

Eyes darting back and forth while your mind raced with the possibilities, your hand reaching for the cold doorknob once more, you stopped as the pieces fell in place.

“Wait a second …”

A shadowy figure that bent to Alastor’s will? A door that was always unlocking itself?

“ALASTOR!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long one, but I think we've finally solved the mystery behind the magically unlocking door.  
> Alastor you cheeky bastard.


	40. Bountiful Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop, I'm alive.   
> I apologise for not posting this chapter sooner, and I have no excuses for why it is so incredibly late. I can only hope that this smoll chapter makes up for the absence, along with the next addition coming later in the week. 
> 
> Thankyou to all of you who have stuck around, I know everything seems to be going to Hell and back, but the continued support and love on this fic has been absolutely incredible and I am so incredibly thankful for the kind wishes :) 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this well overdue update!!

The cool metal of the shower faucet tingled against your fingertips as you twisted your wrist, the lukewarm water flowing out of the shower head with ease before hitting the porcelain floor with a satisfying hiss. Letting the horrendous excuse of a trench-coat fall to the floor, you stepped inside the glass casing – simply staring down at the dirt which had caked below your nails.

What the hell had even happened last night? You had seen some strange shit in Hell, but someone turning into an actual animal when they weren’t already some freakish perversion of some multi-legged animal or insect? As far as you knew it was unheard of.

You reached for the bar of soap, scrubbing until your skin was raw as you mulled over the previous nights events and pushed your mind to recall the missing pieces of memory from the grand reopening ball. Gritting your teeth as your skin ached and cried for you to let up, brows pulling into a low frown as you realised that you’d burnt through half of the bar in a matter of minutes.

Sighing, you turned back to rinse yourself under the depressingly warm-ish water and watch as the mud which had dried to form some kind of extra layer across your body began to wash down the drain and far out of your mind. Raking some shampoo through your hair, ears and tail, eyes daring to close as you lavished the feeling of being in a safe and secure space. Fingers rubbing slow circles on your scalp, the glass walls of the shower echoing with the soft moan that fell from your lips.

You might have been trying to leave behind your horrendous life choices, but even if Charlie’s dream never became a reality – you vowed that this shower, this moment right here was a heaven in itself.

Eyelids closed to keep the soapy bubbles from your eyes, you ducked below the spray once again and watched the far clearer suds disappear down the drain like the dirt had done. Making quick work of the conditioner, you took to the rest of your body with that poor bar of soap. The rose petal fragrances grasping at your skin as it glided across with an unrivalled ease, hands guiding the bar across your bared chest and down the sides of your legs. Your tail swayed behind you as you stared up at the ceiling, cleaning the most private of parts and sighing as you did.

Gods, how were you going to explain your strange appearance at the front door?

A knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, a muffled voice calling;

“Breakfast is ready!” You were willing to bet it was Vaggie calling as both her and Charlie descended the stairs. Racing to wash the remaining product from your hair, you shut off the water and plucked the towel from the rack and scampered back into the warmth of your room. The comfortable heat inside the hotel was a clear contrast to the relentless cold that threatened to intrude through the smallest crack in a door or window. As you ducked inside the large expansive wardrobe, your foot rooted in the spot as your cardigan from the other night lay discarded on the decking just outside your balcony door.

Your eyes narrowed as you shook your head and vowed to bring the piece of closing back inside once you were dressed in warm and snuggly clothes, your ears perked back up as you tracked back into the depths of your wardrobe. Electing for some stretchy jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt that laced up along your back.

Grabbing for a pair of plain undergarments, your towel dropped to the floor in a satisfying heap before you slipped your legs through both holes of the delicate grey underwear and clasped the matching bralette behind your shoulder blades. Sliding the jeans on over your legs and feeling for the small clip that Niffty had sewn into almost all your pants and skirts, you clicked in the small loop around the base of your still wet tail and reached for the long sleeve. Ducking your head inside and stretching your arms wide, you grabbed for the towel and began to head towards the main room once again.

Roughly towel drying your hair, ears and tail before turning to pick up the ornate brush from your vanity, you raked the bristles through your locks and fastened it all together in a sloppy bun at the base of your neck, leaving your fringe and two tendrils of hair cascading down to your collarbones in neat little curls.

Frowning and pulling open the vanity drawer, fingers sifting through the unorganised contents of the wooden insert, you finally had an ‘aha’ moment as you fished out the skeleton key that Alastor had conjured for you. Pulling at the knot until the string attached to the damned thing was long enough to constitute as a necklace, you slipped the key around your neck – the key nestling between your breasts and warming the cool metal.

Shaking your head as your feet carried you to the vapour covered doors that led to the outside world, filling your lungs with a enormous gulp of the warm air before you inevitably stepped out into the frozen winter wonderland that lay just beyond something as simple as a glass panel. Tentatively reaching for the handle and unclipping the latch that had fallen shut … you threw the door open.

As the cool air rushed to meet your still wet hair and whispered across your dewy skin – you grew pleasantly surprised as it wasn’t as cold as you might have initially thought. Keeping a foot beside the door as a makeshift stopper to prevent any more catastrophes, you bent to pick up the snow-covered fabric before turning to lock the door behind you as your feet carried you to the front door and into the hallway. Sliding the skeleton key into your lock, you were somewhat surprised to realise that the actual teeth of the key moulded and changed as it grew closer to the cool metal, sliding in with ease before twisting and securing the lock.

The halls were positively barren as you descended the stairs, eyes wandering as you reached the lobby and noted Husk’s missing presence behind the bar. Slinking past the dark wooden door and sinking into the closest possible chair in the dining room, the strangest scene sat before you.

Charlie’s eyes grew wide as she animatedly spoke to the new girl at the dining table, Vaggie’s arms crossed as she poked at a piece of fruit. Her eye flickered up to you with her brows raised, a small smile on her lips as she asked a silent question.

‘ _Feeling better?_ ’ She tilted her head, thick fringe cascading past the bold X on her other eye.

You nodded, crossing your arms and resting your elbows on the dining table before casting your eyes over towards the newest resident and the owner of the hotel. You asked your own silent question.

She simply smiled and nodded along, turning her attention back to the piece of fruit in front of her. The new girls bright crimson eyes darted back and forth as she watched each of the patrons of the hotel moving throughout the kitchen and dining hall.

“You are going to love it here! We have so many rehabilitation programs to suit every sinner!” The princess of Hell smiled wide as she stabbed a strawberry and chewed it excitedly, the dirty blonde nodding along.

“I’m so excited! When do we start?” Brite beamed, glancing around the table before spotting where you hunkered down. Her ultraviolet eyes narrowing as those metallic braces shine in the lights of the dining room.

“We can start tomorrow. Oh, this is amazing! I’ve got so many ideas” she gushed, happily nomming on her bowl of fruit and making small talk with the newest resident.

“Big whoop! I got here first and ain’t no body rollin out the red carpet for me” Angel groaned, one set of his spidery limbs flying to his forehead in a dramatic fashion – as always.

“To be fair, you haven’t done much to show how keen you are in redeeming your sins, Angel” you sigh over at him.

Shaking his head, those mis-coloured eyes narrowing as his lips pulled into a sneer.

“And I ain’t seen you workin very hard on the whole ‘redeeming qualities’ that you’re preachin’, sister” claws raking across the table before crossing by his curvaceous chest, he turned his nose less face towards the ceiling and pouted.

“At least I’m nice to people” you mutter, cold iris’ seething with quiet disdain as you glared over at him.

“Puh-lease. I’m tolerable” with the usual flourish of his wrist, he smirked across the table at the head honchos of the hotel.

“You’re pushing it” Vaggie growled down the table, her eye alight with the very fires of hell.

The both of you erupt in a fit of laughter, the sounds dying out as an incredibly annoying figure rose from behind the kitchen counters.

Gods, you wished you had of caught the moment on camera.

Alastor stood head to toe in the most casual clothes you had seen to date, with his deep crimson fitted business shirt sleeves rolled up to the crook of his elbows, the upside down cross clear as crystal before dipping underneath the simple apron that wrapped nearly around his thin figure. Across the stained fabric sat the bold lettering;

‘ _Don’t kiss the cook_ ’

His usual smile stretched across his features in a relaxed manner as his long claws clutched at the copper whisk, beating the devil himself out of whatever batter he had slaved over for the morning. You didn’t have the heart to mention the pieces of slimy batter that had caught in the flowing strands of his hair, or the apparent flour that had been smeared across his cheek.

You hated to admit it, but he looked almost adorable as he waltzed around the kitchen.

Humming to himself with the sounds of that internal radio of his, you were caught off guard by the soft smile that graced your lips.

A set of clicking digits caught your attention, your eyes blinking quickly and focusing on the pale hand that waved before you.

Vaggie shot you a strange look, an expression that you couldn’t quite place hiding behind her guarded features.

“You okay?” She whispered under her breath as she stared intently at you across the table.

“Oh, um. Yeah. Just got a little lost in my train of thought” you lie, smiling up at her. Her grimace is clear, shaking her head at where you sat before sliding back in her seat, arms crossed once more as she glared at Angel who had started spouting off once again.

“Now, now! I do believe that this breakfast is to celebrate our little _passion project_ coming together! Angel, my effeminate fellow – do shut up” Alastor’s voice crackles behind you, the sound sending shockwaves down your sides as you sit at full attention as his long claws curl around the headrest of your chair – the sound of the talons digging into the fabric grating on your nerves and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Hey, I’ll do anything for the right price” Angels winks, kicking his heels up onto the dining table with a purr before Vaggie slaps a hand onto his curvaceous chest. Growling at him to get his off the table, Vaggie rolls her eye and glared down at him.

“No. On that note, might I present … breakfast!” with that wonderous smile of his, he sets down three misshapen plates along the dining table. The first and closest to Charlie and Brite was filled to the brim with perfectly scrambled eggs, various seasonings scattered across the glistening golden puffs.

The second plate, closest to yourself and Vaggie, held perfectly cooked pancakes, topped with a delectable dusting of icing sugar. Assorted fruits that had been saved from the phantasmagoria of berries and citruses had decorated the brim of the tall stack of pancakes.

Lastly, the Radio Demon set down a plate closest to Angel. Strewn across the copper plate was fried meats that smelt sweet like honey and maple syrup. The scents danced around the room in tantalising patterns, their very presence tingling your cheeks. You weren’t too sure where to begin.

The newest guest, Brite, wasted no time. Her tanned fingers and crimson eyes locking onto target before plucking stacks of pancakes and a heavy heaping of eggs as Alastor pulled a chair out from beside you and took his place at the table.

“Hey ‘foxy’, wanna pass me some bacon?” She beamed, flashing her metallic braces as she smiled wide. Nodding through squinted eyes, you grabbed her plate and scooped up some rashers of bacon and a blood red sausage onto her plate.

Charlie Ooh’ed and Aah’ed about the display before her, munching on all sorts of breakfast foods in the same bite, shrugging off Vaggie’s insistence that she slowed down.

“This is AMAZING Al!” She cheered between each chew. Adjusting the plate and leaning back over to your left,

“Thankyou so much!” she hummed as she greedily peered down at her plate. Narrowing your eyes, you weren’t too sure about the funny feeling that settled in your stomach. Shaking your head, you brushed the feeling aside and reached forward to grab some berries and pancakes, arranging the small morsels of sweet sugary goodness into a smiling face.

“Why my dear, that looks positively … delightful” the low cooing beside you startled you. Peering over at that wide smile and crinkled eyes, you offer nothing more than an awkward nod.

Making quick work of the breakfast before you, you refuse to allow the smug bastard beside you know just how good the food he had prepared was. With one last swipe of the fluffy golden pancake across what remained of the syrup that adorned the ceramic plate, you looked over at Charlie and the latest addition to the Hotel’s client list where they animatedly discussed how the hotel worked and where everything was. 

“We will have to take you on a proper tour of the hotel this afternoon Brite! You’ll absolutely love it here!”

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, your gaze shifts to the side to watch through narrowed eyes as Brite’s brows pulled down and a sinister smile pulled across her braced teeth. Those crimson eyes flash across the table to meet your suspicious stare before her brows pulled down into a quick frown. Your brow creases, the expression gone as fast as it came, and you wonder if it had been there in the first place.

A humming beside you draws your attention, head turning to the side to peek a look at Alastor through your thick lashes.

He sat, happily watching as everyone else around the table ate their fill of the breakfast buffet with nothing on his own plate. You frowned.

How odd.

“Ah! It must have completely slipped my mind! Charlie, my dearest, we shall have an additional guest checking in with us later in the week”

“That’s wonderful Al! I’ll have to see if Niffty can set up an extra room after we get Brite here settled in” Charlie smiles, beaming with pride. The clearing of a throat beside you draws your attention away from the scraps of a meal before you.

Eyes peering up at Alastor, you wait for him to continue whatever conversation he was hoping to engage in with you.

“I do suppose that means you and I will have a fair amount more work to do over the coming weeks, little fox” that smile pulls wider, those deep crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he adjusts his monocle.

“As long as it doesn’t involve climbing every set of stairs in this hotel, fine”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles to himself.

“My, my. I wouldn’t dare to dream of such a horrendous task, my dear”

Shaking your head, you sigh.

“Of course not. What kind of maniac would dole out that kind of work?” before you can even articulate another sentence, the smashing of the kitchen door catches you, and quite frankly, everyone else in the room, off guard as the glowing orbs come skidding across the laminated flooring accompanied by an orchestra of oinks.

“Fat Nuggets!” Angel sung, crooning at the slowly growing piglet as it jumped into his slender arms with a happy symphony of snorts.

“Angel, how many times have we had to say it? No pets at the dinner table!” Vaggie hisses, her musty pink bow curving inwards to create her adorable horns as her eye flared.

“Relax ya flaps – He ain’t hurtin’ anyone” sticking his tongue out, he snuggles in closer to the piglet.

“Awww, he’s so cute!” Brite’s eyes shine as bright as her braces, fists balled up under her chin as she fawned over the pet.

“See, blondie over there gets it. Little Nuggs is too adorable to say no to!” pulling out the puppy dog eyes, you try in vain to hide the smile that tugs at your lips as you witness the events of the absurd breakfast roll out before you.

Alastor recoils from the table slightly, his back pressing flat against the back of his chair, the sight eliciting a light laugh from you as Charlie, Vaggie and Angel enter another argument for the umpteenth time since your arrival at the hotel.

You watch on in mild amusement as the little pig’s nose picks up on the endless array of foods on the table, squeaking before scrambling from Angel’s fleeting grasp, sending stacks of fruits, sausages, eggs spluttering over everyone seated at the table.

_Oh shit sticks…_

Was the last moment of silence before the chaos broke out.


	41. Hot Head Cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOODNESS! Has everyone seen the news?!   
> Who else is excited that Hazbin got picked up by A24? :D

_ Everything was a blur, the world around you twirling in a stomach twisting roller coaster as the cool metal began to warm to your touch as you spun.  _

_ Fuzzy music blared through the speaker systems that lay scattered around the neon venue, the club particularly packed with ravenous strangers who howled like wolves and hooted like owls, their eyes scouring each and every surface of the skin tight ensemble that barely covered your body.  _

_ Shimming lights tinkled around you, passing with each rotation you had done around the pole.  _

_ You slowed, ten inch platforms landing on the perplex stage floor with a slight crinkling. Hands gripping the bar, your hips swayed in time with the music, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm that consumed you.  _

_ Dark eyes peered at you from the corner of the room, hidden inside a booth that seemed too dark for the rest of the club’s lighting. Caring was not something you got paid to do, you barely got paid enough to cover your food and rent for the month. Ankle hooking on the back of the bar, you spun again – this time landing on the floor as your bared ass slid down the pole in one of the more famous moves in the club, ‘the slut drop’.  _

_ You never knew why people found it a turn on, laughing the first time a girl had told you they found it incredibly sexy as you pushed yourself back up the pole and continued the routine.  _

_ God knew you hated it here, working the same shifts every week and getting paid fuck all for your time.  _

_ Where else would you be, if not here?  _

_ Slinking onto the floor with the grace of a fox, you ran your hands up your thighs as the music drowned out your sorrows. _

_ The base dropped, your dark curls of hair flicking back as your amber eyes bore holes into the ceiling, looking anywhere but at the cheering monkeys that waved about their fistfuls of cash, their feral eyes soaking in as much of the view as they could.  _

_ The dizziness overcame your body, the setting around you shifting and changing as your vision blurred and the room around you changed into a secluded lounge hidden in the back room. A pang of anger tugged at your heart and stomach.  _

_ You hated these rooms.  _

_ Looking over to the man, you smiled gracefully before glancing down at the black lace that adorned your body, the uniform still leaving little to the imagination. Slim olive fingers reached for the crystal glass that had a pre mixed drink in it, necking the contents in one solid gulp and praying that the mind numbing sensation would overtake your body as the portly sleaze had his way with you.  _

_ Red tingled at the outskirts of your vision, the room becoming blurry as his fat fingers tugged at your neck, your lungs screaming for air as you fumbled for anything to get this sick fuck off you.  _

_ The pain seemed so real – so, so real – as the broken shards of glass cut deep into your fingers before you shoved the thickest piece you could find into the revolting swine’s neck, the trickle turning to a flood as a river of crimson filled the room, your lungs – once gasping for clean air – now choked on the thick blood that swarmed your innards. _

_ Pulling your arms upward, you fought to swim against the current that dragged you down into the black void below. _

_ The smallest speck of light seemed fleeting as you reached out to grasp it, as if you’d find some sort of salvation above rather than below.  _

_ It was in vain, you knew it was. You didn’t deserve the lights, you deserved the darkness.  _

_ You landed in the velvet chair with a thump, the boiling blood seemingly vanished from your being. Confused, your head swivels from side to side.  _

_ A charming voice, the words utterly unrecognisable as your snowlike ears twitched follow the sounds, echoed around the endless expanse of black that had engulfed you and the velvet chair.  _

_ “Hello?!” Your heartbeat in your chest, louder and louder as each and every second passed by at the speed of light.  _

_ Static sat as your only reply, followed by a sickening chuckle as the floor dropped out from below you – though you didn’t fall, caught by the puppet strings that seemingly appeared around your arms and legs.  _

_ Squinting past the darkness, your icy eyes glowing in the mind numbing ink that consumed you and the mysterious puppeteer that pulled your stings. You searched harder, eyes glowing bright as you spied a lone radio that looked like something you’d see at a trash and treasure market….  _

_ Incredibly old…  _

_ … incredibly creepy.  _

_ But interesting nonetheless.  _

_ As soon as you spied it, you fell to the floor – limp. _

_ Crawling forward, you couldn’t deny the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you had to cross the void to touch the radio, to see if it worked and what response it would give.  _

_ Tail swishing behind you, scrambling to your feet and rushing to the radio that only seemed to get further away the faster you ran. Baring your teeth, you made one final lunge at the demonic radio.  _

_ Static filled music sparked as soon as your thin fingers had touched the mesh along the front of the machine.  _

_ A dark chuckle sounded from within, your brows pulling down as you leaned in to study the archaic radio.  _

_ “… Darling” _

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Gasping awake, your eyes flickered to every hidden corner of the room looking for some sort of movement as your fingers fiddled for the lamp switch. Artificial light shone in almost every crack and crevice of your room, relief flooding you as you thought to the incredibly strange dream that had plagued your nightmares. 

“… Fuck” you sigh, the sound getting lost somewhere in your throat as you lay back down in the semblance of comfort and safety within the countless layers of blankets and pillows that were now scattered around your bed. Blue orbs flickering over to the alarm clock that sat on your bedside table, you groaned. 

Three in the morning. 

You were well and truly done with today and it hasn’t even started yet. 

Considering you had gone to bed at around midnight the night before … you couldn’t imagine the lack of sleep doing you much good during your first day back on the job after being … well … comatose for lack of a better word. 

Weighing up the idea of getting just a little more shuteye for the next few hours or getting a jumpstart on the day, you settle on the latter after basking in the warmth that you had cultivated during your terrible slumber. 

Usually, you’d jump straight into the shower but instead you elect to kill some time scrolling through Flame-a-gram, smiling at the new page that Charlie and Vaggie had made after the gruesome gala a few weeks back. Your memory was still a little fuzzy on the details of the night, but you were glad that everyone had a mostly wonderful night and that word had gotten out about the Hotel. 

Granted, the new ‘Happy Hotel’ page only had a few followers, you were glad that things seemed to be coming together. You still had no idea how in the nine circles of Hell they were planning on actually rehabilitating sinners … you had almost picked up Angel and Husk’s cynicism and skepticism whenever Charlie discussed their rough idea of how to get someone, well, up ‘there’. 

After another hour of mindless scrolling, you elected to get out of bed and get ready for the day. Sighing as the cool air hit your bared skin, ears twitching in the silence as the stagnant air of your room passed through them. Making quick work of the shower and drying your hair, ears and tail – sighing as your mind still struggled to comprehend the strange happenings that had overtaken your body just a few measly weeks earlier. 

Shaking it off, you quickly seek out some fresh underwear and attire for your first day back on the job. Raking through the neatly folded stacks of monotone lace underwear and bras alike, you settle on one of the many that you had never truly dared to wear outside of your room. Dropping your towel and slipping your arms through the thick black straps and adjusting the pentagram along your chest, you make quick work of fastening the golden buckles that adorned the base of the bust, clasping the mechanism the back and sliding the black mesh g-string up your legs and adjusting the additional straps that came along with the ensemble around your slim waist. 

Slowly making your way to your vanity, you admire the curves Hell had somewhat blessed you with – the oddly pale skinned fox demon looking back in the reflection seeming more like yourself than you had while alive. 

Lifting your chin and grabbing for the brush atop the vanity, you quickly fashion the striking contrasting ombré hair that fell in soft waves which cascaded down your back into a simple bun at the base of your head, pinning the strays around your twitching ears back with intricate golden pins before sweeping your fringe to the side and letting the curl sit just above your clavicle. 

Satisfied, you retreat into the recesses of your wardrobe, fishing for an outfit befitting your duties –

Which, knowing that damned Radio Demon is going to mean chasing around the new guests in the hotel for the rest of the day. 

For reasons unknown to you, you found a small smile tugging on your lips as you pulled a black corset off its hanger and held it up to some tight fitting maroon business pants. 

The wild goose chases he sent you on during your first day had been rage inducing to say the least, along with the other menial tasks when organising the grand re-opening ball. He had always been the shadow at your back … literally in some cases, and yet no matter how maddening the task you still had a soft spot for him. 

Shaking your head and dressing in the quiet darkness within your wardrobe, you quickly slapped some smoky blacks and browns across your eyelids, separated your lashes with some heavy jet mascara and dragged the deep maroon lipstick across your lips. 

Picking out some plain black heels, you fastened the golden buckles and glanced at the small alarm clock beside your bed. 

Six-thirty. 

Perfect. 

You dropped the cool black skeleton key that had a newfound place on your bedside table around your neck, making quick work of locking your door and heading downstairs in search of breakfast foods. Descending the stairs, you swing on the bannister and push the heavy kitchen doors open. 

Catching the grumble in your stomach, you groan as you spy the glint of the refrigerator tucked in amongst the cupboards and pull the handle, delighting in the cool chill that seeps onto the tiles below your heels. 

Rolling your eyes, you were beginning to think you’d need to accompany Vaggie and Charlie out of their bi-weekly grocery shop. A sad looking lettuce leaf and some mouldy cheese greeted you as you leaned in closer to the fridge, the silence emanating from within your stomach agreeing that even you wouldn’t stoop to a deflated lettuce wrap containing the spongy spore-covered diary produce. 

“Surely that’s not all we have” you grumble, ruffling further into the shelves and drawers to find the stale smelling condiments and other jarred miscellaneous foodstuffs that you never dared to taste test due to how grotesque the squirming worm like contents seemed. 

“Hey- 

Your back arched up, head slamming into the top shelf of the refrigerator at the addition of a new voice entering the room. 

“Ouc- shit!”

“Dios Mio!” Vaggie’s concern was palpable as she rushed to your side and quickly helped you regain your balance as you closed the door to the fridge, shaking off the injury and smiling up at her. 

“Vaggie, you startled me” you shrug, offering a weak smile past the minor throbbing pain in the back of your skull. 

“I didn’t think you’d be knee levels of deep inside the refrigerator” she laughed, her gaze softening as she assured herself that you weren’t infant concussed. 

“I thought I was the only person down here” you shoot her a lopsided grin as you rub the back of your head, ears folding backwards as you wince at the minor pain that ebbs and flows around your brain. 

“We’re overdue for a trip out for groceries, aren’t we? Charlie has been working herself into the ground lately to get all the rehabilitation and reform programs together for the guests so we haven’t been able to head out to restock the pantry and fridge” she rolls her eye and opens a cupboard with a low creak, shaking her head as she swears below her breath. 

“How are the programs going?” You ask, curious. 

How were they going to get demons to rebuke their ways and get into heaven? The thought had been nagging at you since the arrival of the Hazbin Hotel’s first guest. 

“They’re … okay. We still have a lot of work to do if we are going to get one soul into heaven … let alone more than that in the future” she sighs, closing the cupboard and looking over at you as she hoists herself up onto the countertop, securing a stray piece of her incredibly long hair behind her ear. 

“That’s fair enough. But if anyone can do it, it's you and Charlie” you muse, electing to sit in one of the stools along the counter, tucking your tail into your lap and running your long nails through the soft fur. 

“I hope so. It feels like everything is finally coming together, ya know? The Hotel is finally in a decent state of repair, we have new guests checking in and a somewhat positive attitude amongst the community. We just need to prove that it can be done, if someone works hard enough and refuses to sin, that they can get into Heaven. It has to work” 

“Not that my opinion counts for much, but I believe in you guys” 

“Thankyou, (Y/N). It means the world”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, at least until your stomachs both rumble in unison causing the both you to laugh at each other. 

“Want to go for a drive? I know Charlie won’t be up for another couple of hours and there's a really good place that does a decent breakfast and coffee” 

The idea of getting out of the hotel seemed like a godsend, your mouth barely hesitating as you stood from the stool, 

“God yes” 

The two of you make your ways to the front of the hotel, vaggie grabbing a fluffy looking grey coat and motioning for you to follow as she began wading through the light snow that dusted over the grounds. 

“So, snow?” 

“It happens about once a year, for a month or so? The rest of the year its mostly just … well, Hell” she chuckled, reaching for the limousine door and ushering you inside. 

You climb inside, careful to grab your tail as you sink into the seat closest to the rear of the car – frowning as Vaggie also climbed into the back of the limo with you. 

“Aren’t you driving?” You question, puzzled by her reaction as she tugs her jacket closer. 

“I never really thought about it, but the limo kinds of … drives itself?” 

“What do you mean?” You stare on as she pulls down the heavily tinted glass separating the two of you from the driver's seat and wheel. There, in the seat, sits a deadly still silhouette of a man dressed in the finest tux you had ever seen. Gloved hands clutched at the steering wheel and thick sunglasses protruded across the strong bridge of a nose that was as black as the tux. Squinting and looking closer, you saw that wisps of smoke swirled around the features of the being, as its head stayed in a fixed position. 

“We’ve just got to tell it where to go and … to there we go. It’s a neat little problem solver because the traffic down here can be an absolute nightmare” Vaggie shrugs, mumbling to the driver over her shoulder before the window slowly rolls back up and clicks shut. 

“Huh… of all the things I’ve seen down here … that might just be the thing that makes the most sense. I mean… when I died there were self-driving cars so why not have that in Hell?” 

“I heard they were making those, I thought everyone would be too concerned about a critical failure to buy them” 

“Oh god no, they’re all the rage. At least, they were while I was, you know … alive” 

The subject still made you feel strange, the idea of still being stuck in some strangely long nightmare being well and truly an appealing problem to have. But until Charlie and Vaggie’s plan to get sinners into Heaven worked out, you guessed you were stuck here for the rest of eternity. 

Your head still swum thinking about it. 

The drive is filled with idle chatter, nothing that truly sticks to your brain as you watch the city begin to grow in size from the corner of your eye. Eventually the limo pulls to a stop in front of a building you’d have never looked twice at if you were walking through the city – which wasn’t something you did often enough to really get a grasp on what was out here. 

You’d come out to the city as a tag along to buy clothes and small bits and bobs along the way, but had never ventured out far or long enough after your first night in Hell when you fell into the strange red and black tinted hell-scape. 

“Charlie and I used to come here all the time when we first moved out together. Very lovely demons here” Vaggie rolled her eyes, jumping from the car and taking a sizeable breath of city air as you slowly clambered out from the limo. A large clock tower was visible in the distance, the numbers just legible enough for you to see that you’d been in the warmth of the car for about fifteen minutes. Still some loose change before work was due to start. 

Vaggie holds her hand up to the window of the car, signalling for the strange mass of black shadow to wait a few minutes while the two of you ventured into the café.

You couldn’t contain the laugh as you read the signage above the window; 

Hot Head Coffee. 

These demons knew no bounds when it came to naming things. The originally had you stifling a quiet laugh as you stepped inside the sparsely decorated café. Some regular, run-of-the-mill demons sat in scattered tables around the café, their heads buried in the newspaper or their jaws comping down onto heavily charred chunks of food. One of the feral looking demons shot you a wink as it bit into the coffee mug it was drinking from, eliciting a quick shuffle to catch up with Vaggie as you broke the strangest eye contact you’d ever received in your afterlife. 

“Know what you’re after?” Vaggie asked, her eyes barely skirting past the menu as if she knew her order off-by-heart. You shook your head, offering for her to step forward and place her order first. 

If you thought the local coffee places you had visited while alive had a lot of options, they needed to come down here when refining their menus. There were all of five coffees and teas, and a minuscule selection of baked goods. Shaking your head, you settled on a latte and a bag of cinnamon doughnuts for breakfast just as a strange looking fellow rose from behind the glass display case.

Wiping his grotty hands along his apron, he pulls a cigarette from his lips and dips it into the ashtray beside the register. His blacked out eyes pull down in a frown as he grinds his teeth. 

“Well if it ain’t Veggie, or whatever your name was. What can I do ya for?”

“Frank. Long black, cappuccino and a mocha. What else have you got for me?” You’d only ever heard her take that tone when she spoke to Angel, something about it made you feel somewhat thankful to never be on the receiving end of those conversations. You knew why she rolled her eyes as she claimed there were ‘lovely demons here’

“Yeah, yeah, hold ya horses. For you? Bagels, charred toast and house speciality doughnuts” he grunts, scribbling something hardly classified as legible onto a scrap of paper before (you presumed) looking back up at her. 

“Three bagels… and…?” She shoots a glance over her shoulder to where you stood, the words stuck in your throat for a moment before you finally found your voice. 

“Uh, a latte and a bag of cinnamon doughnuts?” 

“Heh, that it? That’ll be thirty-six smackeroo’s, Love” Frank rolls his eyes, ploughing his thick fingers into the register after scribbling more on his scrap piece of paper. You catch sight of Vaggie’s expression in the corner of your eye and you stifle a laugh that threatens to bubble up past your lips. 

Ears flaming, she taps her bank card to the reader – the satisfying beep ringing in your ears as she pulls you to the side and another demon steps into line as who you presumed was the owner stepped away to make the drinks. 

“I can certainly see the charm here” 

She shakes her head as she pulls her phone from the jacket’s pocket,

“You can say that again. At least he doesn’t put his butts into the drinks”

“People do that?” You scoff, horrified and praying that she is joking. 

“That’s what happens in Hell” she rolls her eye, pulling up a messenger app and shoots a quick message to Charlie while the two of you wait. 

“Order up!” The gruff voice calls, summoning both yourself and Vaggie back to the counter to collect the bags and cup tray filled with piping hot liquids. 

The ride back is quicker than before, as it always is when you know how long it takes to get somewhere. The two of you venture back inside to the warmth and safety of the Hotel, barely sinking down into the chairs which surrounded the dining table before Charlie gracefully entered the room and grabbed her cappuccino and sipped happily on the warm beverage. One cup still remained untouched. 

Your fingers dipped into the cinnamon doughnut bag, grabbing at the lukewarm treat and munching down on it – careful to not let any of the gritty sugar onto your clothes for the day. 

It wasn’t too long before soft oinks and quick footsteps sounded along the stairs above, the muffled sounds growing closer as the door to the kitchen swung open again and Angel stepped inside, one set of arms holding his squirming pig whilst the other grabbed for the heat resistant cup which held the tall mocha inside. 

Rubbing the dark circles under his eyes, he spun on his heel and left through the kitchen doors with little to no words, leaving the conversation around the table stumped. 

As if on cue, the door reopened and Angel stalked back inside, grabbing for a bagel and retreating up the stairs once again. 

The clock on the wall signalled 7:15am, almost time for you to be checking in with Alastor and getting ready for another day of tomfuckery on the job.

“Alright ladies, this is where I have to love you and leave you. Save a spot for me at dinner?” You smile at the lovebirds in front of you, their soft smiles shining up in unison as you push your chair away from the table. 

“There's always a seat with your name on it” Charlie laughs, her rosy cheeks puffing out as she smiled wide up at you. Your pale fingers scrape together what little mess you had made over your plate and you swipe them into the trash along with the cardboard cup adorned with the ‘Hot Head Coffee’ insignia. 

You turn to leave the kitchen with a deep, steadying breath. 

“Hey (Y/N),” a voice calls

“Yeah?” You turn, hand hovering over the door handle to re-enter the lobby. 

“Knock ‘em dead” she winks – blinks – you’re not too sure but the sentiment is there. 

“Thanks Vaggie” 


End file.
